Until the Final Verdict (22 page)

I
N HIS EARLY SIXTIES,
wearing wire-rimmed glasses and tasteful slacks and a sport coat, Morgan Nelson's kindly demeanor belied his status as a nationally renowned forensic pathologist and firearms expert. He settled into the witness chair and waited for McCaskill's first question.

“What is your occupation?”

“I'm a forensic pathologist and toxicologist for the Santa Rita Sheriff-Coroner.”

“Describe your qualifying education and training for the jury.”

“I have a Master's Degree in Microbiology from Saint John's University, Doctor of Medicine from Boston University, and six years' postgraduate training in pathology and toxicology. I completed a two-year
internship at the University of Utah Hospital and residencies in Anatomic Pathology at Boston Hospital, Clinical Pathology at the University of California Medical Center, and Forensic Pathology with the Los Angeles County Medical Examiner's Office.”

“What about practical experience?”

“I was the U.S. Army Medical Corps Chief Pathologist at Fort Riley, Kansas, and Chief Anatomical Pathologist at the Ninth Medical Lab at Saigon, Vietnam. After that, Assistant County Medical Examiner-Coroner for ten years, and Santa Rita Sheriff's Forensic Pathologist for twenty-two years.”

“Do you consult, teach, publish, or hold any special certifications?”

“I consult with the Traffic Safety Research Corporation, law enforcement and forensic experts in forty states and twenty countries. I teach at Stanford University and the University of California, as well as dozens of police academies. I've been published in the
Journal of Law and Technology, Journal of Forensic Science,
and many others. I've consulted on hundreds of crime-scene investigations, and I'm Board-certified in Anatomical Forensic Pathology as well as Forensic Toxicology.”

“Have you ever testified as an expert witness?”

“Almost a thousand times.”

“Please explain what forensic pathology is.”

“Forensic pathology is the science of interfacing with law enforcement agencies, in assessing traumatic injury, and conducting autopsies.”

“And toxicology?”

“Toxicology is the study of the nature, effects, and detection of poisons and the treatment of poisoning.”

“Could you briefly, and as delicately as possible, explain what an autopsy involves?”

“The word ‘autopsy' means ‘see for yourself.' It's a surgical procedure performed by a specially trained physician on a dead body to learn the truth about the person's health during life, and how that person died. During an autopsy, every organ in the body is examined visually and, in most cases, microscopically. Blood, urine, bile, cerebrospinal and other fluid samples are taken and later analyzed. All pathological sites are photographed during the procedure.”

“How long does an autopsy take?”

“Three to six hours plus twelve to fifteen hours for the microscopic and other laboratory tests.”

“So, it's a very comprehensive procedure?”

“Yes.”

“How many autopsies have you conducted?”

“More than nine thousand. I perform between three and five hundred per year.”

“On Wednesday evening, January sixteenth of this year, did you autopsy the body of Doctor Robert Simmons?”

“I did.”

“When Doctor Simmons' body was turned over to you at the Santa Rita County Morgue, were you alerted as to the most likely cause of his death?”

“Yes.”

“What were you told killed him?”

“Myocardial infarction—a heart attack.”

“Who told you that?”

“Kathryn Mackay.”

“Tell us exactly what she said.”

“That she and Sheriff Granz were bringing Simmons back from Spain to stand trial, and about an hour before the plane landed at San Francisco, he collapsed. She started chest compressions while Sheriff Granz administered CPR, but they weren't able to resuscitate him.”

“When the airplane landed, the San Francisco County Coroner assumed jurisdiction, then turned the body of Doctor Simmons over to you, is that correct?”

“No, Sheriff Granz had one of his deputies drive to San Francisco and return the body directly to the Santa Rita County Morgue.”

“Is that unusual?”

Nelson pursed his lips. “Somewhat.”

“Did Sheriff Granz say
why,
when the San Francisco Coroner would normally have jurisdiction?”

“He said Kathryn insisted that I do the autopsy.”

“Did you ask why he agreed?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“He said Kathryn threatened to get a court order before they landed, if he didn't.”

“Was that because you're one of her closest friends, and she thought the truth might not be discovered if you conducted the autopsy?”

Griffith objected. “Argumentative.”

“Sustained,” Keefe ruled.

McCaskill shrugged. “By the way, Doctor, how long have you known the defendant?”

“Twenty years, more or less.”

“Professionally and personally?”

“Yes.”

“She confides in you, and you do the same with her?”

“Yes.”

“You consider her a good friend?”

“I certainly do.”

“The defendant told you Doctor Simmons died of a heart attack, but you found no coronary heart disease, disorders, or diseases of the heart muscle or pericardium when you autopsied his body, did you?”

“No.”

“What did you determine to be the cause of death?”

“Digitalis overdose.”

“A massive overdose?”

“If it kills you, it's massive.”

“Of course. Digitalis is a prescription heart medicine, correct?”

“That's correct.”

“How is digitalis administered to a heart patient who takes it as a medicine?”

“Sometimes in pill form, sometimes by injection.”

“According to your autopsy protocol, the digitalis that killed Doctor Simmons was administered orally. How did you determine that?”

“There were traces of digitalis in his stomach contents.”

“What else did you find in his stomach?”

“Carbonated water, sucrose, and chemicals found in soft drinks.”

“Like Coca-Cola?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else?”

“No, his stomach was otherwise empty.”

“So, from that information, you concluded that Doctor Simmons ingested a massive dose of digitalis along with a soft drink like Coke, right?”

“Yes.

“Doctor, would you explain to the jury what happened when Doctor Simmons was administered that massive digitalis overdose.”

Nelson cleared his throat. “First, the drug dramatically increased the contraction force of his myocardium—heart muscle. Shortly after, the drug induced extreme extrastystole, or premature heart contraction, followed by uncontrolled ventricular tachycardia—excessive, rapid heartbeat—and soon after that, ventricular fibrillation—uncoordinated, arrhythmic twitching of the heart—and death.”

“How quickly did death occur after Doctor Simmons was administered the digitalis overdose?”

“Almost immediately after ingestion.”

“So, the person who administered the digitalis overdose to Doctor Simmons was with him immediately before he collapsed, right?”

“I'd say so,” he answered softly.

“I'm sorry, I didn't hear your answer.”

“Yes.”

“Doctor, you're aware Sheriff Granz testified that immediately before Doctor Simmons collapsed of an apparent heart attack—which we now know wasn't a heart attack, but a fatal overdose of digitalis—the defendant was with Doctor Simmons, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And that immediately after Doctor Simmons collapsed, the defendant began chest compressions and cardiopulmonary resuscitation—CPR—ostensibly in an attempt to save his life, correct?”

“Yes.”

“At that point, Doctor Nelson, in your expert opinion, was there any hope of saving Doctor Simmons' life by performing those measures?”

“No.”

“None at all?”

Griffith stood. “Objection, asked and answered.”

“Sustained,” Keefe ruled, but his eyes and the jurors' were locked on Nelson.

“Doctor, in your opinion, based on your conversations with the defendant after the remarkably similar death of District Attorney Benton, did the defendant know CPR wouldn't save Doctor Simmons' life?”

“Objection!” Griffith stood. “The witness can't testify to what my client did or didn't know.”

Keefe thought for a moment. “Doctor Nelson is an expert. He can give his opinion. Answer the question, Doctor.”

“She probably knew.”

“So, by pretending to administer CPR on a body that she already knew was beyond help, the defendant was just putting on a grotesque show.”

Before Griffith got to his feet, McCaskill smiled at the jury and said, “Strike that.”

Keefe checked the clock. “Mr. McCaskill, it's almost noon. I assume you have more questions for Doctor Nelson. Is this a convenient time to break?”

“Now's fine, Your Honor.”

“Very well, Court will reconvene at one-thirty.” He turned to Nelson. “The witness is admonished not to discuss his testimony with anyone—including the defendant.”

R
OGER
G
RIFFITH OPENED A BRIEFCASE,
unfolded a linen place mat and napkin, arranged them carefully on the table in front of Kathryn, then unwrapped an egg salad on sourdough sandwich, and set it on a china plate. He scooped coleslaw from a plastic container and finally poured ice-cold milk from a pint thermos into a crystal glass.

Kathryn raised her eyebrows. “What's this?”

“My wife and I tossed it together for you this morning. I hope you don't mind.”

“That was nice, but I'm not hungry.”

“You've lost ten pounds.”

“I can't eat.”

“You have to. The jury can't see you fall apart.”

“I feel like such a fool.” She tugged at the leg of the
new navy pinstriped suit Dave and Emma had bought her.

“Sitting in court day after day dressed in damn new suits, looking brave while inside I'm so terrified I'm sick.”

“Of course you're frightened, you're not Wonder Woman.”

“I used to think I was, but it's not just that I'm frightened. I could handle that. I'm putting on a front while everyone I loved betrays me. It's pathetic.”

“Kathryn . . .”

“Have you heard from Dave since I spoke with him in Vancouver last night?”

“No.”

“Would you call him on his cell phone before court reconvenes? See if he's made any progress.”

“I doubt he's contacted the stewardess yet.”

“Please.”

“Sure.”

“Whatever she says'll probably just dig my hole deeper, anyway.”

“You can't be sure of that.”

“Yes I can.” Kathryn started to take a bite of her sandwich, then put it down.

“Make me a promise, Roger.”

“Sure.”

“Once I'm convicted, start adoption proceedings for Emma and Dave immediately.”

“Kate—”

“There's something else. I won't live a month on death row. You know the other inmates'll find a way
to take out an ex-DA. I'd rather do it myself, but I'll need your help.”

“You're asking me to help you kill yourself?”

“Call it a favor one friend does for another.”

“You're talking crazy, Kate. You have to stay strong and confident.”

“Strong and confident! Jesus Christ, I feel like I'm on an airplane whose engines all quit and we're plunging toward the ground at a thousand miles an hour. Disaster's imminent, but I can't bail out. If Mary Elizabeth and Dave didn't convict me, Nelson will.”

“Eat your lunch.” He took a bite of his burrito. “We'll get our shot at Nelson.”

“That's what you said about Skinner.”