The Reversal (28 page)

“And before you were semiretired, what did you do?”

“I was assistant medical examiner for the county of Los Angeles. Had that job for thirty years.”

“As such you conducted autopsies?”

“Yes, sir, I did. In thirty years I conducted over twenty thousand autopsies. That’s a lot of dead people.”

“That is a lot, Dr. Eisenbach. Do you remember them all?”

“Of course not. I remember a handful off the top of my head. The rest of them I would need my notes to remember.”

After receiving permission from the judge I approached the witness stand and put down a forty-page document.

“I draw your attention to the document I have placed before you. Can you identify it?”

“Yes, it’s an autopsy protocol dated February eighteenth, nineteen eighty-six. The deceased is listed as Melissa Theresa Landy. My name is also on it. It is one of mine.”

“Meaning you conducted the autopsy?”

“Yes, that is what I said.”

I followed this with a series of questions that established the autopsy procedures and the general health of the victim prior to death. Royce objected several times to what he termed leading questions. Few of these were sustained by the judge but that was not the point. Royce had adopted the tactic of attempting to get me out of rhythm by incessantly interrupting, whether such interruptions were valid or not.

Working around these interruptions, Eisenbach was able to testify that Melissa Landy was in perfect health until the moment of her violent death. He said she had not been sexually attacked in any determinable way. He said there was no indication of prior sexual activity—she was a virgin. He said the cause of her death was asphyxiation. He said the evidence of crushed bones in her neck and throat indicated she had been choked by a powerful force—a man’s single hand.

Using a laser pointer to mark locations on photographs of the body taken at autopsy, Eisenbach identified a bruise pattern on the victim’s neck that was indicative of a one-handed choke hold. With the laser point he delineated a thumb mark on the right side of the girl’s neck and the larger, four-finger mark on the left side.

“Doctor, did you make a determination of which hand the killer used to choke the victim to death?”

“Yes, it was quite simple to determine the killer had used the right hand to choke this girl to death.”

“Just one hand?”

“That is correct.”

“Was there any determination of how this was done? Had the girl been suspended while she was choked?”

“No, the injuries, particularly the crushed bones, indicated that the killer put his hand on her neck and pressed her against a surface that offered resistance.”

“Could that have been the seat of a vehicle?”

“Yes.”

“How about a man’s leg?”

Royce objected, saying the question called for pure speculation. The judge agreed and told me to move on.

“Doctor, you mentioned twenty thousand autopsies. I assume that many of these were homicides involving asphyxiation. Was it unusual to come across a case where only one hand was used to choke a victim to death?”

Royce objected again, this time saying the question asked for an answer outside the witness’s expertise. But the judge went my way.

“The man has conducted twenty thousand autopsies,” she said. “I’m inclined to think that gives him a lot of expertise. I’m going to allow the question.”

“You can answer, Doctor,” I said. “Was this unusual?”

“Not necessarily. Many homicides occur during struggles and other circumstances. I’ve seen it before. If one hand is otherwise occupied, the other must suffice. We are talking about a twelve-year-old girl who weighed ninety-one pounds. She could have been subdued with one hand if the killer needed the left hand for something else.”

“Would driving a vehicle fall into that category?”

“Objection,” Royce said. “Same argument.”

“And same ruling,” Breitman said. “You may answer, Doctor.”

“Yes,” Eisenbach said. “If one hand was being used to maintain control of a vehicle the other hand could be used to choke the victim. That is one possibility.”

At this point I believed I had gotten all that there was to get from Eisenbach. I ended direct examination and handed the witness over to Royce. Unfortunately for me, Eisenbach was a witness who had something for everybody. And Royce went after it.

“ ‘One possibility,’ is that what you called it, Dr. Eisenbach?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said the scenario Mr. Haller described—one hand on the wheel, one hand on the neck—was one possibility. Is that correct?”

“Yes, that is a possibility.”

“But you weren’t there, so you can’t know for sure. Isn’t that right, Doctor?”

“Yes, that is right.”

“You said one possibility. What are some of the other possibilities?”

“Well… I wouldn’t know. I was responding to the question from the prosecutor.”

“How about a cigarette?”

“What?”

“Could the killer have been holding a cigarette in his left hand while he choked the girl with his right?”

“Yes, I suppose so. Yes.”

“And how about his penis?”

“His…”

“His penis, Doctor. Could the killer have choked this girl with his right hand while holding his penis with his left?”

“I would have to… yes, that is a possibility, too.”

“He could have been masturbating with one hand while he choked her with the other, correct, Doctor?”

“Anything is possible but there is no indication in the autopsy report that supports this.”

“What about what is not in the file, Doctor?”

“I’m not aware of anything.”

“Is this what you meant about being a hired gun, Doctor? You take the prosecution’s side no matter what the facts are?”

“I don’t always work for prosecutors.”

“I’m happy for you.”

I stood up.

“Your Honor, he’s badgering the witness with—”

“Mr. Royce,” the judge said. “Please keep it civil. And on point.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Doctor, of the twenty thousand autopsies you have performed, how many of them were on victims of sexually motivated violence?”

Eisenbach looked across the floor to me, but there was nothing I could do for him. Bosch had taken Maggie’s place at the prosecution table. He leaned over to me and whispered.

“What’s he doing? Trying to make our case?”

I held up my hand so I would not be distracted from the back-and-forth between Royce and Eisenbach.

“No, he’s making their case,” I whispered back.

Eisenbach still hadn’t answered.

“Doctor,” the judge said, “please answer the question.”

“I don’t have a count but many of them were sexually motivated crimes.”

“Was this one?”

“Based on the autopsy findings I could not make that conclusion. But whenever you have a young child, particularly a female, and there is a stranger abduction, then you are almost always—”

“Move to strike the answer as nonresponsive,” Royce said, cutting the witness off. “The witness is assuming facts not in evidence.”

The judge considered the objection. I stood up, ready to respond but said nothing.

“Doctor, please answer only the question you are asked,” the judge said.

“I thought I was,” Eisenbach said.

“Then let me be more specific,” Royce said. “You found no indications of sexual assault or abuse on the body of Melissa Landy, is that correct, Doctor?”

“That is correct.”

“What about on the victim’s clothing?”

“The body is my jurisdiction. The clothing is analyzed by forensics.”

“Of course.”

Royce hesitated and looked down at his notes. I could tell he was trying to decide how far to take something. It was a case of “so far, so good—do I risk going further?”

Finally, he decided.

“Now, Doctor, a moment ago when I objected to your answer, you called this a stranger abduction. What evidence from the autopsy supported that claim?”

Eisenbach thought for a long moment and even looked down at the autopsy report in front of him.

“Doctor?”

“Uh, there is nothing I recall from the autopsy alone that supports this.”

“Actually, the autopsy supports a conclusion quite the opposite, doesn’t it?”

Eisenbach looked genuinely confused.

“I am not sure what you mean.”

“Can I draw your attention to page eight of the autopsy protocol? The preliminary examination of the body.”

Royce waited a moment until Eisenbach turned to the page. I did as well but didn’t need to. I knew where Royce was going and couldn’t stop him. I just needed to be ready to object at the right moment.

“Doctor, the report states that scrapings of the victim’s fingernails were negative for blood and tissue. Do you see that on page eight?”

“Yes, I scraped her nails but they were clean.”

“This indicates she did not scratch her attacker, her killer. Correct?”

“That would be the indication, yes.”

“And this would also indicate that she knew her attack—”

“Objection!”

I was on my feet but not quick enough. Royce had gotten the suggestion out and to the jury.

“Assumes facts not in evidence,” I said. “Your Honor, defense counsel is clearly attempting to plant seeds with the jury that do not exist.”

“Sustained. Mr. Royce, a warning.”

“Yes, Your Honor. The defense has no further questions for this prosecution witness.”

Twenty-eight

Monday, April 5, 4:45
P.M
.

B
osch knocked on the door of room 804 and looked directly at the peephole. The door was quickly opened by McPherson, who was checking her watch as she stood back to let him enter.

“Why aren’t you in court with Mickey?” she asked.

Bosch entered. The room was a suite with a decent view of Grand Avenue and the back of the Biltmore. There was a couch and two chairs, one of them occupied by Sarah Ann Gleason. Bosch nodded his hello.

“Because he doesn’t need me there. I’m needed here.”

“What’s going on?”

“Royce tipped his hand on the defense’s case. I need to talk to Sarah about it.”

He started toward the couch but McPherson put her hand on his arm and stopped him.

“Wait a minute. Before you talk to Sarah you talk to me. What’s going on?”

Bosch nodded. She was right. He looked around but there was no place for private conversation in the suite.

“Let’s take a walk.”

McPherson went to the coffee table and grabbed a key card.

“We’ll be right back, Sarah. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine. I’ll be here.”

She held up a sketchpad. It would keep her company.

Bosch and McPherson left the room and took the elevator down to the lobby. There was a bar crowded with pre–happy hour drinkers but they found a private spot in a sitting area by the front door.

“Okay, how did Royce tip his hand?” McPherson asked.

“When he was cross-examining Eisenbach, he riffed off of Mickey’s question about the killer using only his right hand to choke her.”

“Right, while he was driving. He panicked when he heard the call on the police radio and killed her.”

“Right, that’s the prosecution theory. Well, Royce is already setting up a defense theory. On cross he asked whether it was possible that the killer was choking her with one hand while masturbating with the other.”

She was silent as she computed this.

“This is the old prosecution theory,” she said. “From the first trial. That it was murder in the commission of a sex act. Mickey and I sort of figured that once Royce got all the discovery material and learned that the DNA came from the stepfather, the defense would play it this way. They’re setting up the stepfather as the straw man. They’ll say he killed her and the DNA proves it.”

McPherson folded her arms as she worked it out further.

“It’s good but there are two things wrong with it. Sarah and the hair evidence. So we’re missing something. Royce has got to have something or someone who discredits Sarah’s ID.”

“That’s why I’m here. I brought Royce’s witness list. These people have been playing hide-and-seek with me and I haven’t run them all down. Sarah’s got to look at this list and tell me which one I need to focus on.”

“How the hell will she know?”

“She’s got to. These are her people. Boyfriends, husbands, fellow tweakers. All of them have records. They’re the people she hung out with before she got straight. Every address is a last-known and worthless. Royce has got to be hiding them.”

McPherson nodded.

“That’s why they call him Clever Clive. Okay, let’s talk to her. Let me try first, okay?”

She stood up.

“Wait a minute,” Bosch said.

She looked at him.

“What is it?”

“What if the defense theory is the right one?”

“Are you kidding me?”

He didn’t answer and she didn’t wait long. She headed back toward the elevator. He got up and followed.

They went back to the room. Bosch noticed that Gleason had sketched a tulip on her pad while they had been gone. He sat down on the couch across from her, and McPherson took the chair right next to her.

“Sarah,” McPherson said. “We need to talk. We think that somebody you used to know during those lost years we were talking about is going to try to help the defense. We need to figure out who it is and what they are going to say.”

“I don’t understand,” Sarah said. “But I was thirteen years old when this happened to us. What does it matter who my friends were after?”

“It matters because they can testify about things you might have done. Or said.”

“What things?”

McPherson shook her head.

“That’s what is so frustrating. We don’t really know. We only know that today in court the defense made it clear that they are going to try to put the blame for your sister’s death on your stepfather.”

Sarah raised her hands as if warding off a blow.

“That’s crazy. I was there. I saw that man take her!”

“We know that, Sarah. But it’s a matter of what is conveyed to the jury and what and who the jurors believe. Now, Detective Bosch has a list of the defense’s witnesses. I want you to take a look at it and tell us what the names mean to you.”