Killer Ambition

65

I kept my opening simple, taking the jury through the events in chronological order, step by step, as Declan played the DVD of photos that illustrated my points. I started with the fight between Brian’s father, Tommy, and Russell over the theft of the screenplay, and noted that four of them looked skeptical. I moved through the kidnapping plot and into the finding of the bodies, deliberately speaking in calm, measured tones-a counterpoint to the graphic pictures they were seeing for the first time. Brian’s pale face above a bloody gash of a neck, his throat sliced nearly to the vertebrae, lying supine in his shallow grave on Boney Mountain. Hayley, the visible side of her face partially covered by bloody, disheveled hair, her left eye, half open and staring, her body curled in a fetal position in the trunk of Brian’s car.

Knowing the images I’d be using for my opening statement would be horrific, I’d warned the friends and family not to be in court during my opening-all except Russell. He wouldn’t take my call. So while Raynie and all of Hayley’s friends were absent-Janice hadn’t flown out yet and I wasn’t sure if she ever would-Russell was, as always, front and center on the defense side of the courtroom. A part of me was glad. Maybe the shock value of the photographs would bring him around. They certainly got the jury’s attention.

As the images of Brian and Hayley cycled through on the monitor, the jury’s eyes widened. The librarian had to look away, but the black single mom’s face hardened, the perfect reaction that showed she was ready to hammer the person who’d done this. I knew the defense let her stay because the group-think was that a minority was more likely to buy into a conspiracy theory. The truth was, she was the best juror I had. At least for these few moments, the jurors were forced to remember that this case was about the slaughter of two innocent young people.

When I began my opening, there was the usual low hum of activity-whispers from the gallery, jurors shifting in their seats, and business being conducted by the clerk. But by the time I’d finished, the courtroom was utterly still-no one in the jury box or even the gallery seemed to be breathing. I took what solace I could from this and thanked the jurors for their time and attention.

The judge turned to the defense. “Ms. Fisk, Mr. Wagmeister, will you be making an opening statement today?”

Wagmeister stood. “We will reserve our statement for the beginning of the defense case. But we caution the jury that what the prosecution has just presented is just a wish list. We will show substantial problems with every aspect of their case-”

This was outrageous, completely improper speechifying. Controlling the anger that rushed to the top of my head with supreme effort, I stood up. “Objection, Your Honor. If the defense wishes to give an opening statement-”

“Overruled,” the judge said, frowning at me. Wagmeister rolled on, barely missing a beat. This kind of gift didn’t happen often and he knew better than to waste a second of it.

“-and that the defense will soon present important, compelling evidence of our client’s innocence. I thank you all for your kind attention.”

The judge should’ve stopped Wagmeister’s posturing little speech. In fact, he should’ve smacked Wagmeister for even trying it. A crappy jury and a weak judge. Super.

Wagmeister smiled, gave a little bow to the jury, and sat down. Judge Osterman turned to me and said, “Call your first witness.”

I stood and faked a confident voice. “The People call Dr. Graciela Vendi.”

Bailey escorted her in. At nearly six feet tall, Dr. Vendi was one of the few women who could look down on Bailey, and her mop of curly auburn hair made her seem even taller. She strode up to the witness stand and flashed a warm smile at the jury before turning to face the clerk and raise her right hand.

I took her through her credentials and job description. I know some lawyers like to have their expert witnesses talk directly to the jury when they testify, but I think it looks phony-like they’re pretending to have a little fireside chat, or worse, trying to sell them a used car. I also think it can make jurors nervous, like the witness is watching them, gauging their reactions. Which they-hell, we all-are. But bottom line, since I’m the one asking the questions, I think it seems weird to have the witnesses look at anyone else when they’re giving the answers.

“Dr. Vendi, did you conduct the autopsies of Hayley Antonovich and Brian Maher?”

“Yes, I did. And I brought my file containing my reports.” She gestured to the file she was holding.

“If the defense would like to have another look at these documents before I go any further, I’d be glad to let them do so now.” I always make this offer so the defense won’t have an excuse to interrupt the examination if the doctor needs to check her reports to refresh her memory.

“Thank you,” Wagmeister said. He walked up to the witness stand, greeted Dr. Vendi with an insincere smile, and leafed through the folder. I took the opportunity to glance at the defense table. Ian’s sharp designer suit had been replaced with a low-end standard they’d probably found at Sears, and I noticed he’d suddenly developed the need for reading glasses. Seated next to him, so close she was practically in his lap, was a young blonde female law clerk-their idea of Hayley’s proxy. They whispered to each other, leaning in close, lips to ears. In short, every trick in the book to make Powers look harmless and “of the people.”

Hayley’s friends and family, other than Russell, were still in the hallway. I’d advised them to sit this one out, since Vendi’s testimony would be even more graphic than my opening statement.

“Mr. Wagmeister, is there anything in that folder you haven’t seen?” the judge finally asked.

“No, this is fine.” Wagmeister moved back to his side of counsel table.

I waited for the jury to focus on the witness, then I continued. “Dr. Vendi, I’m going to put the photographs you had taken during the autopsy on the monitor. Please refer to those photographs as you describe your findings. I will begin with Hayley Antonovich.”

The first photograph flashed up on the monitor, showing Hayley on the coroner’s table before she’d been undressed or washed. I heard movement in the gallery and when I glanced over, I saw that Russell was leaving.

Dr. Vendi looked at the photograph briefly. “I always begin with a superficial examination. I noted that there were leaves and soil in her hair and on her clothing, thin scratches that appeared to be from tree or shrub branches on her hands, arms, and legs. And of course, the severed carotid in her neck.” Dr. Vendi pointed to the gaping slash across her throat that was the obvious cause of the red stain that soaked the front of Hayley’s T-shirt.

“After that superficial examination, what did you do next?”

“I had the clothing removed and the body cleaned.”

I signaled Declan to move to the next photograph, a tighter shot of Hayley’s upper body. Cleaned, washed, and ghostly white, long blonde hair flowing, she looked angelic-except for the garish red slice bisecting her neck.

“Does this photograph depict the wound you determined to be the cause of death?”

“Yes. You can clearly see where the carotid artery was severed, and what I noted was that it was one long, extremely deep cut. There were none of the hesitation marks that would have indicated either the victim’s struggle or some ambivalence on the killer’s part. Nor were there any defensive wounds on the victim’s hands or arms.”

“Did you happen to note any bruising that might have occurred recently, just prior to death?”

“Objection!” Wagmeister stood. “The doctor can’t say whether the bruising occurred during the homicide.”

“I’ll allow the question,” the judge ruled. “It will be for the jury to determine what weight to give the answer.” He nodded for Dr. Vendi to continue.

“Yes, I found evidence of bruising that appeared very fresh, which would indicate it likely occurred very shortly before death. As you know, we don’t bruise after death because there is no blood pressure.”

“And where did you find that bruising?”

“On her right arm.”

Declan flashed the photograph that showed it.

“You can see the marks here and here.” Dr. Vendi pointed to the spots around the circumference of Hayley’s delicate upper arm. “They appeared to be consistent with finger marks, with someone grabbing her by the arm.”

“Anywhere else?”

“On her left shoulder.” Again, Declan put up the photograph. “Here, this bigger bruise on the front of the left shoulder.”

“And what does that indicate to you?”

“That after grabbing Hayley by the right arm, the killer put his left arm around her body and pulled her back.”

“And then?”

“And then he or she drew a sharp object, likely a knife, across her neck from left to right.”

“What, if anything, did that indicate to you about whether the killer was right- or left-handed?”

“That he or she was right-handed.”

I pointedly looked over at Ian, hoping he was writing a note to his little girl prop-showing he was right-handed. But he had his hands in his lap and a serious, concerned expression on his face. I had no doubt that this pose had been choreographed by Terry. Unlike many of her other clients, Ian was smart enough to follow orders.

“The fact that there were no defensive wounds, what does that indicate to you?”

“That the victim had no chance to fight back. Most likely because she was overpowered immediately, probably taken by surprise. I can demonstrate on you, if you like.”

I don’t always like to do demonstrations because unless you have a relaxed, professional witness who can handle it, and just the right conditions, it can backfire. But Dr. Vendi could be trusted to do a good job of it and the conditions were perfect: Dr. Vendi was roughly Ian’s height and I was only an inch or two taller than Hayley. I moved up to the witness stand and faced the jury and Dr. Vendi came down to stand behind me. She wrapped her left arm around my upper body and drew her right hand across my throat. It painted an unusually vivid picture of how Hayley had been murdered. Juror number five, a Pacific Bell repairman on disability, visibly winced. Fantastic.

“How deep was the wound track across Hayley’s neck?”

“The depth of the wound track was three and a half inches.”

“What does that indicate to you about the manner and means in which the wound was inflicted?”

“To me, it logically indicates that a rather large knife was used, and wielded with considerable force.”

“And your conclusion about the cause of death, Dr. Vendi?”

“My conclusion is that Hayley Antonovich died of sharp-force trauma to her neck, which severed the carotid artery.”

We moved on to Brian’s autopsy. The similarity of his and Hayley’s fatal wounds was a critical piece of evidence that indicated the murders were likely committed by the same person. I had Dr. Vendi describe this in some detail while showing the photographs that illustrated her points.

“As you can see, this victim suffered the same long, deep slice to the throat.”

“How deep was this wound track?”

“A little deeper than Hayley’s. This wound track went nearly to the bone.”

“Would it be fair to say that Brian Maher was nearly decapitated?”

“Yes. And once again, I saw evidence of bruising on the left side of the upper arm that indicated Brian Maher was also seized and immobilized from behind in approximately the same manner as Hayley before the carotid was severed.”

“Were there any differences in the style of attack?”

“Only one that was notable. There was a puncture wound to the left side of the neck that was the deepest end of the wound and shows where the knife was inserted first. It struck me that because Brian was a male, the killer might have been more concerned about disabling him as quickly as possible, and so stabbed him with great initial force before completing the cut across the throat that severed the carotid.”

“Other than that deep puncture wound, did you see any notable differences in the method or manner of the attacks on Hayley and Brian?”

“No. They were remarkably similar.”

“One last question: Is it common for a killer using a knife to sustain cuts to his own body in the course of the homicide?”

“Yes, very common. I’d say in at least eighty-five percent of the knife killings I see, the defendant sustains some type of cut to his body, hands, or arms. Other than the obvious fact that the killer is acting in haste and dealing with unpredictable movements by the victim, the killer is going to generate a fair amount of body heat during a knife attack. That will cause the killer to perspire, especially in the hand holding the knife. This will frequently cause the hand to slip up the handle and onto the blade. And if he or she-I say she, by the way, though I very much doubt a ‘she’ could’ve done these killings-was clutching the knife for a few minutes before the attack, that also would cause the palm to sweat and thus get slippery.”

“If the killer sustained a small cut to his finger, what kind of bleeding might that cause?”

“As anyone who cooks knows, even a very small cut on a finger with a sharp knife can bleed quite profusely. So it’s entirely possible that a knife as big and sharp as the one that was used here might have produced an injury that led to substantial bleeding, even if that injury was small.”

“And if the killer did sustain a small injury, like a cut to a finger, would you expect that injury to still be visible three weeks later?”

Three weeks: the amount of time that had passed before Ian Powers was arrested.

“Not terribly, no. You might see a faint scar, but that would be about it. Unless it got infected.”

“Even if you did see a faint scar on the killer’s finger, would you be able to say that it had to have happened during the murders?”

“No. Healing rates vary depending on a number of factors. There would be no way I could be that precise about when the injury was sustained.”

“Thank you, Dr. Vendi.”

Other than the issue of the killer getting cut himself, there wasn’t much reason to go after Dr. Vendi. Cause of death wasn’t in question. I knew that Terry didn’t go for the scattershot approach. She liked to zero in on the weak spot. So I wasn’t surprised when Wagmeister stood up to do the cross.

“You do know that there were no injuries on Mr. Powers when he was arrested, don’t you, Doctor?” he asked.

I stood up. “Objection. This witness has no personal knowledge, Your Honor.”

“Overruled. She’s an expert, she can answer.”

Another dumb ruling. Expert or not, she can’t testify to physical observations she never made.

“I don’t know that, Counsel. All I know is that the jailers made no mention of any injuries in the arrest report. But they don’t look for healed wounds or small scars. They only look for gross injuries so they can prove a prisoner did not sustain them in custody.”

Answers like this are what make Dr. Vendi a goddess.

“Still, the arrest report doesn’t mention any scars or wounds, does it?”

“No.”

Wagmeister presented a photograph of a knife that had handle guards-a metal bar that separates the handle from the knife blade. “Do you see the knife on the monitor, Doctor?”

“Yes.”

“If the killer used a knife like that, his hand wouldn’t have slipped up onto the blade, now would it?”

“That style of handle makes it less likely, certainly. But it doesn’t necessarily prohibit the hand from slipping up onto the blade. And there are many other ways for the killer to cut himself during the attack. For example, he has his left arm around the victim’s upper chest, which leaves his left hand exposed. As he uses his right hand to draw the knife across the victim’s neck, the blade would naturally come close to his left hand.” Dr. Vendi demonstrated on herself. “You see, the left hand would be right here, near the right side of the neck. Beyond that-”

Agitated at how his one decent point was being obliterated, Wagmeister held up a hand and turned to the judge. “Objection! This is nonresponsive, Your Honor.”

I was on my feet. “The answer was entirely responsive, and experts are allowed to explain their answers.”

“I am aware of the rules of evidence, Ms. Knight. But I agree. Overruled.” The judge turned to Dr. Vendi. “Please continue.”

“Yes, I was saying that we’ve all cut ourselves accidentally more than once under far less stressful situations, for example, when slicing a turkey, or vegetables. Now, imagine how much more likely such an accident becomes in the course of a homicide with a struggling victim. This is why it’s very, very common to see some kind of sharp-force injury to the defendant in these types of cases.”

Delightful. The stronger the proof that Ian cut himself during the murders, the stronger the logical conclusion that his blood got smeared on the trunk of Brian’s car that night, and not-as the defense had tried to claim-some other time. I could practically hear the wheels turning in Wagmeister’s head as he tried to find a way to dig himself out of this hole. Finding none, he moved on. His next gambit was to try and get the doctor to admit it would be hard for one killer to disable two victims the way she’d described. Wouldn’t the victims have had more opportunity to struggle, and therefore show more defensive wounds, if just one person had done it?

“Not if the killer took them by surprise and attacked them from behind. And neither of these victims was very big. Hayley was petite, just one hundred and three pounds. Brian was a slender boy as well. I wouldn’t think it would be that hard for a fully grown adult who had the element of surprise to overcome them-particularly if he was able to attack them one at a time.”

“But can you say with certainty that they were attacked at separate times, Doctor?”

“No, but I do know they were found in very different places. One buried on the mountain, and one in the trunk of a car parked at the airport.”

“But if they weren’t separated, wouldn’t it be very difficult for a single killer to get behind each of them and do the killings as you describe?”

“If I must assume they were together, yes. But that doesn’t jibe with the manner of death shown here. This was not a rage or impulse style of attack. It was a single slice across the neck of each victim-no overkill. This killer was, for lack of a better word, efficient. I say efficient because it allowed him to immobilize the victims, and it allowed him to avoid most of the blood spatter. I don’t see someone who kills in this manner attempting to overcome two victims at once.”

“But you can’t say for sure that they were killed at separate times or places?”

“No. The only way I could say that for sure is if I had been there, and I wasn’t.”

Wagmeister decided to cut his losses and end with that unimpressive concession.

“Thank you,” he said. “I have nothing further.”

Terry’s expression was guarded, but I could see her hands were clenched under counsel table and knew she was seething. What a cheery sight. As Dr. Vendi stepped down off the witness stand, I stole a glance at the jury: they looked solemn; some even looked teary.

“It’s five minutes to noon,” the judge said. “So let’s take our lunch break. I’ll see everyone back here at one thirty.”