The Killing Kind (30 page)

R
ichard Beam began his cross-examination by asking Dr. Schandl about the injuries Heather sustained around her neck and how the doctor had conducted a “layer-by-layer neck dissection” of tissue in that area. Then Beam handed the doctor a photograph depicting the procedure.

She studied it.

“And in the case of Heather Catterton, I did not see any hemorrhage to the strap muscles or the deep structures of the neck, and that is what this picture depicts,” Schandl explained, further stating that the discoloration she found around Heather’s neck could have been anything, and she could not “tell you what that’s the result of.”

What she had testified to under direct was that at the time of the dissection, Schandl did not have all of the information she needed to make an expert opinion regarding what had caused the discoloration, however. That came later, when the reports were in and she found out Hembree had admitted to placing his foot on Heather’s neck. Then what had happened made sense to the doctor.

Beam asked Schandl if she had read a transcript of the Hembree DVD interview or watched the DVD.

She said she had not done either.

“And talking about the toxicology, I take it what you’re saying is, any amount of cocaine is potentially lethal?” Beam asked.

“That is correct.”

“And the scientific review of the evidence you determined from the pathological examination of Heather Catterton is that you still don’t know what the cause of death was?”

“That is correct.”

Dr. Schandl had never expressed an exact cause of death. In her opinion, after reviewing all of the evidence, she agreed with the defendant’s version of suffocation.

Beam insisted, “I believe at one point . . . you told me that you exclude things, and there are several causes of death that are potential for Miss Catterton in this case. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that’s simply because the physical evidence doesn’t allow you to exclude everything.”

“That is correct.”

“And as part of your suspicions concerning possible strangulation, you spent a great deal of time examining that potential cause of death?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Found nothing physically to support that as a cause of death?”

“Nothing conclusive. No, sir.”

“Just as you can’t conclusively determine whether she died of a cocaine overdose.”

“I cannot.”

Beam went into Schandl’s education and experience. The doctor said she’d conducted over two thousand autopsies.

“And you teach other pathologists how to do the procedure, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

Beam was done.

Bell indicated he did not have any redirect questions.

They discussed putting Hensley back up to conclude his testimony, but Hamlin was concerned there were only fifteen minutes left to the day and Hensley’s testimony would exceed that time. So, at 4:48
P.M.
, the trial was recessed until nine-thirty the following morning.

“W
hat helped us,” Stephanie Hamlin later explained, “was the 404B evidence we were allowed to bring in.”

Despite not being able to come out and explicitly link the two cases of Randi and Heather, or add the Deb Ratchford case and make a claim Hembree was a bona fide serial killer, the state was allowed to present evidence of Randi’s death to the jury through the testimony of witnesses (404B). This gave them the opportunity to show a pattern: Heather and Randi died in similar ways, by the same hand. So if a juror didn’t buy into the cause of death for one of the girls, he or she could look to the other and maybe realize how Hembree had used the same modus operandi to lure and then murder, which might allow that juror to take a leap on the other case.

“They (both murders) were close in time and proximity,” Hamlin explained. “So although we didn’t show a pattern necessarily, we did show his motives . . . and that right there was huge. If we had only been able to use Heather’s case and not Randi’s, it might have been more of an issue for us.”

Beside the normal, built-in trepidation all prosecutors face going into trial, obtaining a guilty verdict was not a concern for the DA’s office. What they were most apprehensive about was the “capital” aspect of the trial.

“It’s very rare in North Carolina right now,” Hamlin added. “People just don’t want to give [a death] sentence that often anymore. So we were worried about that. But altogether, capital cases are just so, so long. . . .”

There had been moments during the voir dire process, while picking a jury, when Hamlin questioned a potential juror and the questions she asked had made some jurors cry.

“And I’d wonder, ‘What am I doing to make them cry?’ ”

It was the seriousness of a capital case: A juror is judging someone for taking a life and placing death in his hands, and then that juror is placed in the same position. For some, the emotional weight of making that decision is extreme.

Proving the cause of death in Heather’s case caused Stephanie Hamlin some stress; as did the fact that it was a capital case, with the hours she’d spend away from her husband and children. It was a lot to take on.

“In retrospect, I should not have worried about the cause of death,” Hamlin commented. “It was like a day-to-day thing. With a regular murder trial, you present evidence and you wait for a verdict. With a capital case, you have to pace yourself because it’s
so
long. You have to be on all the time.”

Hamlin had prosecuted many trials involving blood and trace evidence, so it was second nature for her to put on a witness and enter those same types of exhibits through the witness’s testimony. And in Danny Hembree’s case—as Hamlin considered how the state’s side of presenting evidence and witnesses was coming to a close during the second week of trial—the number of exhibits had run into the dozens.

I
n a moment of rare courtroom solidarity, surely a rarity in capital cases, after the judge asked if Hembree and his team had viewed the DVDs Hensley was going to be referring to during his resumed testimony on October 26, Beam responded, “Your Honor, as much as I hate to admit it, I think Miss Hamlin is correct about what she’s done. It does look like they have redacted everything that either was not corroborative or impeachment.”

To make sure, Judge Beal asked: “Is there anything that has been redacted that the defense wishes was not redacted?”

“No. Honestly, Your Honor, it was appropriate.”

After a brief discussion about his upcoming testimony, Hensley was asked to sit and complete his direct.

As they got going, they discussed the transcript of the first interview Hensley and Sumner had conducted with Hembree.

Hensley agreed the transcribed interview was a good reference and the transcript reflected the content of the interview.

Then Hamlin had Hensley tell the jury how he had uncovered additional evidence in Hembree’s vehicle: those bracelets that Hembree had told Hensley would be there to “prove” he killed Randi.

Hensley concurred that he found Randi’s boots exactly where Hembree said they’d be inside Momma’s house. Hembree had even pointed to them on the video.

They spent some time talking about the location of Randi’s boots and how the boots were packaged as evidence.

Hamlin entered a transcript of the Hembree interview into evidence.

From there, they talked about the ride-along Hembree did with Sumner and Hensley. It was all there, straight from Hembree’s own tongue:

Crowders Creek Road.

That bridge on the border.

Heather’s clothing.

The gas station where he said he purchased the fuel to burn Randi’s body.

Where he saw Randi walking along the road and picked her up.

Where he dumped Heather’s body.

The abandoned trailer.

Apple Road—Kings Mountain State Park.

Momma’s house.

Some words spoken can never be taken back. This evidence, despite any argument Danny Hembree now lodged, was one of those moments.

Late in the day, after several arguments, without the jury present, regarding what could and could not be said, Stephanie Hamlin concluded her direct and handed Hensley over to Beam.

Richard Beam began at the moment Hensley received the call from Eddie Strait.

After that, and a brief discussion about times, Beam asked Hensley about Randi’s death and if Hembree first indicated to him it was “the result of a conspiracy.”

“Yes, that’s what he told us . . . ,” Matt Hensley agreed.

“He told you that Stella Funderburk . . . Heather’s mother, [Stella’s sister], who was Heather Catterton’s aunt, and Bobby Mercer. That is the right name, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“ [His] nickname is Shorty. He said he had paid him to kill Miss Saldana. Correct?”

“That’s what—yeah, that’s what—I think both paid him. They conspired to have her killed.”

“He told you how they had paid him roughly an eight ball of cocaine to kill Miss Saldana, correct?”

“Yes.”

“I believe he told you half up front from Shorty, correct?”

“That’s what I recall him saying, yes.”

It seemed Beam was on a slight roll here, bouncing along, maybe not knocking on the door of doubt, but heading toward the neighborhood where it might exist. Momentum. Every lawyer likes to establish a push and then drop whatever bomb he has in his arsenal.

“This was information you were interested in, correct?” Beam asked.

“Yes. We listened to everything he had to tell us.”

After discussing how Hensley interviewed each of the so-called conspirators separately during the GCPD’s investigation, Hensley said he and the DA’s office did not see any evidence of a conspiracy. Just wasn’t there. In his opinion, Hensley explained, after studying all of the information they collected about a possible conspiracy, he and Sumner “felt like [Hembree] was just trying to take them down with him.”

Not being able to rattle Hensley about a potential conspiracy the GCPD might have missed, Beam moved on. And for the next twenty minutes, he attacked minor things that had already been established as uncontaminated evidence against Hembree:

Randi’s boots.

The jewelry.

Hembree saying he “stood on Heather’s neck for five minutes.”

How they collected blood from Momma’s house.

How Hensley and Sumner wanted to “keep” Hembree talking for as long as they could.

Hembree’s requests for a Raleigh prison and impounding his car.

How many interviews they conducted with Hembree.

If Hensley had ever seen a copy of Heather’s autopsy before December 5, 2009. (He hadn’t.)

Back to the conspiracy for a few beats.

How long Hensley spent going through the transcript to make sure “it was right”—which brought them to the end of the workday.

In all, Beam made zero progress. He simply went over what jurors already knew and would never question, anyway. These were routine matters for a cop of Hensley’s caliber.

Matt Hensley came across as a clean-cut, young, eager, straight-laced cop who, if nothing else, dotted every
i
and crossed every
t
meticulously. Hensley was a cop who followed the book. Left no stone unturned. This was clear as he talked through the case he, Sumner, and the GCPD had built against a guy who had admitted killing two girls.

Hembree had given them a map of his madness. Their job was to follow it and make sure he was telling the truth. And in the end, when all was said and done, Hensley said repeatedly, Danny Hembree’s admissions checked out.

F
irst thing the following morning, October 27, Hensley was slated to take the stand again and answer more of Beam’s questions. There was an early argument, without the jury present, over a reference to “the Florida girls,” as Beam labeled it, within the transcript and DVD. That mention in the DVD and transcript had been redacted. There was a feeling from Hembree’s camp that they wanted to, for some unspecified reason, bring this out in questioning. It was dangerous territory for Hembree, the judge warned. What was he getting at? Why offer up what could potentially be more damning evidence? Why give the jury precedence? It didn’t make much strategic sense to anyone, it seemed, except to Hembree and his team.

Throughout the two weeks of trial, quite shockingly to everyone on the law enforcement side, Hembree had not made a spectacle of himself or the trial. Many thought he would. Sure, he had given dirty looks to witnesses and law enforcement, and had given the impression he wanted to jump out of his skin and attack someone. But he was rather quiet and behaved himself.

No one knew what Hembree was planning, obviously, but he would live up to his reputation—and exceed it—of being a meddler in the coming days.

Beam was wondering if he could use this Florida evidence to Hembree’s advantage. The judge questioned Hembree himself about it, asking if the defendant understood the implications of bringing Florida in and the impact it might have on his case. The judge called the move “a great risk.”

Hembree said he knew of the dangers, but he wanted to move forward.

“Do you understand this could all go against you? It could be a mistake in strategy. Do you understand that?” the judge reiterated.

“I understand that.”

The judge asked again.

Hembree gave the same answer.

The other problem the judge had was time: It was now 11:20
A.M.
The jury had been waiting patiently since coming into court almost two hours ago now. The judge said he was going to “seek forgiveness” from jurors for keeping them locked in a room for so long.

By 11:27
A.M.
, the jury was back. Just in time for lunch.

“I beg your forgiveness” were the first words out of the judge’s mouth before explaining the reason for the delay.

Matt Hensley, who had gone off to wait, was back on the stand.

Beam brought Hensley up to that Florida moment of the interview that was conducted on December 5, 2009, which allowed the defense to enter into a discussion with Hensley about it.

“And one of the things that York County detectives told you about . . . was that [Mr. Hembree] had mentioned killing two people in Florida.”

“Yes, sir,” Hensley answered.

“And you, of course, asked Mr. Hembree about that, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you continued to ask Mr. Hembree about that pretty much throughout the whole time that you had him for the interview and in the car and things of that nature, right?”

“Yes. It was brought up several times.”

“And your purpose for that was you were trying to gather details from Mr. Hembree about that to relay them to other law enforcement officers, correct?”

“Yeah, we wanted to know about two bodies—dead bodies—in Florida.”

“Okay. And you had asked him—and, at first, he told you he didn’t want to talk about it, right? Or he gave you a little bit of information?”

“Yes, I believe so—”

The judge interrupted. “Let me ask you to pause just a second. Now, members of the jury, I need to give you some instructions in regard to another one of our rules. . . .”

Judge Beal explained.

With the go-ahead from the judge, Beam asked Hensley about a timeline and location for the murders in Florida

Gender of the “alleged victims.”

How Hembree’s admissions of Florida were mixed with his confessions about Randi and Heather.

How Hensley and Sumner got Florida law enforcement involved and how they came up to North Carolina to speak about the cases.

How it was also part of the conversation about Shorty and the conspiracy to kill Randi.

How Hembree had talked about ending his own life during that time period.

Then Beam’s motive became clear: They brought in this information so Beam could prove—by example—that Hembree was prone to giving false confessions. He enjoyed making up stuff.

Again, Beam seemed to develop some momentum, but it ran out of gas as he had no climax, no big reveal, no finale of any sort to prove Hembree was lying. The implication was that Hembree told law enforcement lots of things. Yet, the truth of the matter remained: Hembree’s claims were either backed by evidence or not.

Beam concluded his cross by asking Hensley how many additional murders he had investigated based on what Hembree told them.

“About seven or eight,” Hensley said. This sounded big. The obvious follow-up would have to be: “How many murders did you prove Danny Hembree had committed beyond Heather’s and Randi’s?”

But Beam didn’t ask that question and, in fact, indicated he had nothing further for Hensley.

Hamlin had a few redirect questions.

Beam had no recross questions.

Hamlin had a mini-conference with Bell. Then: “That’s the evidence for the state, Your Honor.”

They rested.

The judge called a recess.

It was near three o’clock in the afternoon when the defense called its first witness.

Stella Funderburk—Heather’s mother, Hembree’s old flame—walked into the courtroom.