Primal Fear (37 page)

“Well, yes…”

“So the only physical evidence in the room that you can positively state was
not
there prior to the murder is the bloodstains?”

“Well, that’s …”

“Yes or no, Mr. Woodside?”

“I suppose you could say that. There’s the bloody footprint, of course.”

“My client doesn’t deny that it’s his footprint,” Vail said, still checking his notes. “Of course he was there. But since he was in a fugue state and remembers nothing, we raise the question: Was someone else there, too? And that’s the question we’d like you to resolve, Mr. Woodside, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Now, sir, based on these findings, can you honestly say that Aaron Stampler and Bishop Rushman were the only people in the room at the time of the assault?”

“I am ninety percent—”

“Ninety percent won’t do, Mr. Woodside. Will you tell the court that you are one hundred percent sure that nobody else was in the room at the time of the murder?”

“I guess not.”

“Yes or no?”

“No.”

“Mr. Woodside, I will remind you of the Wright case. Do you remember the Wright case?”

“Of course.”

“You were the forensics expert on that case, right?”

“Yes.”

“Tell the jury the details.”

“I object, Your Honor. Irrelevant. What is the point here?”

“The point is logic, Your Honor.”

“Logic?” Shoat echoed.

“Mr. Woodside is basing a lot of his assumptions on logic. I would like to examine his perception of logic.”

“Oh, all right, Mr. Vail. I told you I’d give you latitude in this case, so you may proceed.”

“The Wright case, Mr. Woodside.”

“Theodore Wright was a salesman. He was found shot to death in a hotel room. The murder weapon was later discovered behind a steam radiator in the corner.”

“So the logical conclusion was that he was murdered, right?”

“That’s correct. Our original assessment was that Wright was murdered.”

“And was that, in fact, the case?”

“No, we later ascertained through tests that Wright shot himself. The kick of the gun threw his hand back and the weapon flew out of his hand and lodged behind the radiator.”

“So the logical conclusion—that he was killed—was wrong.”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Woodside, judging from the evidence, would it have been logical to conclude that he committed suicide?”

“Not really.”

“You mean no.”

“No.”

“The point is, a great many criminal cases defy logic, don’t they, sir?”

“Well, you can say that, but in most of the cases—”

“Most of the cases. But not
all,
correct?”

Woodside sighed. “Correct,” he said.

“Now Mr. Woodside, you testified earlier that Mr. Stampler’s fingerprints were—as you put it—all over the knife and the body.”

“Yes.”

“And you also testified that fibers from Stampler’s gloves were on the knife tray?”

“That’s correct.”

“And so you assumed from that evidence that Stampler took the knife out of the tray, right?”

“It would certainly seem logical.”

“Is it also logical that he took off his gloves before committing the murder?”

“Uh … I don’t understand the—”

“Sure you do, but I’ll put it another way,” Vail said. “You’re very big on logic, Mr. Woodside. Is it logical that Mr. Stampler came in with his gloves on, took the knife, then took off his gloves so he could leave fingerprints all over the place—as you put it? Is that logical?”

“Uh … well, I would say—”

“Just say the answer, sir. Do you think it is logical that a man premeditates a crime, plans it all out, then takes off his gloves before he goes to work?”

“Well, I don’t know why he did that.”

“Is it logical? Does it make any sense at all?”

“Not really.”

“I think we can assume that’s a ‘no,’” Vail said. “And as
far as the other fiber samples you found, if Mr. Stampler was there earlier in the evening, the fiber samples could have been left at that time, true or false?”

“True.”

“So the fibers in themselves really don’t prove that the defendant was in the room at the time of the attack, is that a true statement?”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“So, to sum up, Mr. Woodside, you can’t prove Aaron was alone in the room with the bishop, can you?”

“Uh … well, I…”

“Yes or no?”

Woodside sighed. “No,” he said.

“And you can’t say beyond a reasonable doubt that Aaron took the knife from the kitchen, right?”

“Not really.”

“We’ll take that as another ‘no.’ Now let’s talk about Aaron’s escape, as you put it, through the kitchen door. It’s your opinion that he came in through the kitchen door, left his shoes there, took the knife, and went to the bishop’s bedroom and stabbed him, then went back the same way, put his shoes back on, and exited through the kitchen door.”

“Yes.”

“And you base that opinion on what?”

“Logic. Logic says that he took off his shoes when he came in, because the bloodstains on his socks led straight back there. And since it is unlikely that the carving knife was in the bedroom, we can also assume that he picked up the knife when he came in.”

Vail walked across the room.

“Supposing he did come in the front door, as he says he did. What’s the first thing you do when you come in from the cold? You take your gloves off, right? Rub your hands together, breathe on them. So Aaron comes into the rectory, pulls off his gloves, then he hears something upstairs, and goes up. Someone else is in the room, so”—Vail leaned over, pulled off his loafers and stuffed one in each of his suit coat pockets—“he takes off his shoes so nobody’ll hear him, sticks them in his jacket pockets. He goes to the bedroom, looks in, and sees someone stabbing the bishop—someone who
did
come in the back door, take the knife, and go to the bishop’s bedroom. The Bishop is trying to prevent the stabbing. He has his hands in front of him. But
finally he drops his arms and the killer stabs him—according to your report, ‘wound number four, direct cardiovascular hit sufficient to kill almost instantaneously’—and the bishop falls on the floor. The killer runs out of the room, and Stampler, shocked into a fugue state, grabs the knife and goes berserk. Then he leaves the room, hears someone downstairs, runs to the kitchen, puts his shoes back on before going out in the cold, and exits the kitchen door. Can you prove it didn’t happen that way, Mr. Woodside?”

“Nope,” Woodside said with resignation. “I can’t prove a duck didn’t fly in the window and kill him, either.”

The arena broke up. Shoat smashed his gavel several times.

“If you people don’t shut up, I’m going to clear this room,” he bellowed, then glared down at Woodside.

“Mr. Woodside, that remark was totally uncalled for. You are no stranger to courtrooms or trials. You know better.”

Woodside lowered his head. “Yes sir, I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“I should think so. The jury will ignore that remark. It has absolutely no relevance to these proceedings.”

“I have no further questions of this witness,” Vail said.

The doorman delivered the first paper to hit the street that night to her door. She read it at her desk while she supped on chicken noodle soup and crackers.

L
EGAL
E
AGLES AS
C
ELEBRITIES
Venable versus Vail
Is the Best Show in Town
by
Jack Connerman

The toughest ticket in town these days is in King’s County Superior Court, where yesterday the legal battle of the century began.

It’s a dream trial: a grisly murder case involving two legal superstars and one of the city’s most prominent citizens as victim. At stake: the life of a nineteen-year-old mountain boy named Aaron Stampler, who has a Himalayan IQ, an accent like Sergeant York and is accused of turning Archbishop Richard Rushman, “The Saint of Lakeview Drive,” into an anatomy lab experiment one night this past February. The details of
the slaying were so brutal they were kept under wraps by the police until the trial started yesterday.

It could be called Celebrity Courtroom, this rematch between Assistant D.A. Jane Venable, a lady with more scalps on her belt than any other prosecutor in history, and the jugular wunderkind of the circuits, Martin Vail, who was saddled with what was considered an open-and-shut case as penance for taking the city, county and state for seven mil plus recently in the Joe Pinero case.

The last time these two faced each other across the banq was as main-event gladiators in the infamous Rodriguez narcotics case a few years back. Vail waltzed away with the roses that time, thus there is vengeance in the air and it emanates from the D.A.’s office.

The first day delivered all it promised: verbal clashes between Venable and Vail, several testy admonishments from Judge Hangin’ Harry Shoat, photographs that would start a feeding frenzy at a vampire convention and some hard infighting by Vail.

Venable promises quick, biblical-style justice. “Thank God the Supreme Court has given us back the electric chair in time for Aaron Stampler” is her best quote to date.

Vail, as is his custom, has two words to say: “No comment.” He saves it all for the courtroom and Monday he was looking pretty good. Venable’s open-and-shut case began to look a little more open than we were led to expect.

Venable, decked out in a gray flannel double-breasted suit over a black turtleneck, her blazing red hair pulled back in a tight bun, her designer spectacles perched on the end of her nose, made it clear in her opening remarks that blood red was the color of the day, characterizing the defendant as a ruthless, jealous, vengeful boy-killer who literally butchered the man who had been his guardian angel and mentor for two years.

“Seventy-seven times he struck while the Saint of Lakeview Drive tried to defend himself,” she declared. “The archbishop’s hands were pierced and punctured as he tried to ward off that deadly carving knife. Twelve fatal wounds were struck. The bishop was virtually decapitated. Aaron Stampler, who learned his skill with a knife working as an apprentice in a funeral home, showed no mercy as he destroyed and mutilated his benefactor…”

Strong stuff. A straightforward, max-out pitch followed later by shocking color photographs that backed up her verbal horror story.

Vail, dressed haphazardly as usual, promised surprises. His contention: that Stampler went into a psychological blackout, clinically known as a fugue state, and remembers nothing until police found him cowering in a confessional covered with blood and still holding the murder weapon. There have already been intimations that a third person was in the bishop’s bedroom when he was murdered.

There were several paragraphs devoted to the testimonies of Bascott and Danielson, and some snide lines about the overkill of the photographs. The closing paragraphs of the story put her teeth on edge.

Undaunted, Vail challenged the credibility of the state’s psychiatric evaluation and raised a question: Was the team’s analysis incomplete or possibly misdirected? Stampler’s blackout story, until now a media joke, became not only credible but, by Bascott’s own admission, a fairly common occurrence. Is it possible that Stampler did, in fact, suffer a blackout? Vail has challenged and changed the perception that it was a feeble defense.

Then too, there was Vail’s testy cross-examination of Bill Danielson, which has raised a lot of questions. The prosecution cannot prove Stampler was alone in the room, or that he actually made any or all of the stab wounds, or which wound was the actual fatal stab, or whether more than one person took part in the attack.

There is no question that the physical and circumstantial evidence still weighs heavily in Venable’s favor. But if Vail’s first day in court is any indication, this trial is far from being over. Round two at 9
A.M.
Tuesday.

Venable slammed down the paper after reading the article twice. Connerman, the ultimate male chauvinist, rooting for Vail, as usual. She could read between the lines. She paced the room, listening to a tape recording of the testimony. She stopped at one point and replayed the tape.

It was at the series of questions regarding symbols. Vail went into it and then suddenly abandoned the line of questions.
Why?
Was he fishing to find out what the numbers meant? Did he get on shaky ground and change direction? Something had warned him off. Was it one of Bascott’s answers?

Suddenly it had become obvious that Vail was avoiding the symbols on the back of the victim’s head. He was trying to get information into the record without directly dealing with it. After having cracked the door with Bascott, he seemed to be dancing around the question. Did he know what the messages meant? And if so, why was he avoiding dealing with it directly? It occurred to her that Vail might be trying, obliquely, to introduce testimony concerning the similar symbols on the heads of Billy Jordan and Peter Holloway.

That was it! The son of a bitch was trying to connect Rushman to the two altar boys without specifically bringing up what the messages meant. In so doing, he could then introduce the possibility that Rushman and the altar boys were killed by the same person and then show that there was a strong probability that the two boys were killed after Rushman’s murder, when Stampler was already in custody. Also, if he opened that door wide enough, he might force her into introducing the altar boy tape—which would definitely work to her disadvantage. At the same time, it would then allow him to introduce what the jury might consider a sympathetic motive for the killing.

Not a chance,
she thought.
No way.

On the other hand, if she could prove Stampler knew what the messages meant, it would be another proof of his guilt and possibly maneuver him into a courtroom admission that he killed all three of the victims.

What a coup,
she thought. She could turn the tables on Vail, nail the little bastard for Rushman’s killing, and at the same time raise the issue of multiple murders in the mind of the jury. The jury would vote to burn him for sure and Shoat would love it.