Murder One

35

AS PROMISED, D.A. LaBelle started the next day of trial with the state medical examiner, Bob Barkley. Barkley was relatively new and this was the first time Ben had seen him in court. His predecessor, Dr. Koregai, had passed away from a heart attack several months before.

Barkley was young, energetic, buoyant—a complete contrast to Koregai. Koregai had always been serious and dignified, had always treated his job with enormous gravity. To Barkley, it was more like an all-night party. His infectious enthusiasm suggested that he thought being a coroner was, well, a good time. He seemed to adore rattling on about body parts and blood splatters.

It was quite a change. Koregai had always been so intelligent and commanding that jurors treated his opinions with respect, even if his testimony tended to induce premature napping. Barkley was much better at keeping them awake. The question was how much respect the jury would give the opinions of a coroner who came off more like a surfer dude.

After the preliminary elicitation of Barkley’s background and credentials, LaBelle brought him to the case at hand.

“Did you perform a forensic examination on the remains of Joe McNaughton?”

“I sure did,” Barkley answered, sort of like, Gee whiz, Mom, I remembered to take out the trash.

“And did you reach any conclusions regarding the cause of death?”

“Absolutely.”

“Would you describe those conclusions to the jury?”

“Of course.” Taking the cue, Barkley shifted himself slightly so he could make eye contact with the jurors. “The cause of death was the twenty to thirty stab wounds inflicted by a knife, perhaps an inch to an inch and a fourth, with a serrated blade. It’s a common configuration; a kitchen knife would fit. The blows landed all over the victim’s body—torso, arms, legs, neck, face—even one eye.”

Ben saw two of the jurors wince.

“The wounds punctured several critical arteries and caused excessive bleeding, which resulted in the victim’s eventual death.”

“Would this have been a quick death, Dr. Barkley?”

“Probably not. There were no fatal blows to vital organs, although, of course, the penis was severed. Neither the jugular vein nor the carotid artery were slashed. The process of bleeding to death could have taken anywhere from half an hour to two hours.”

“And would the victim have been conscious while bleeding to death?”

“For most of it, yes. Conscious, and in extraordinary pain.”

This portion of the testimony was totally irrelevant to the question of who murdered McNaughton, but it was keenly relevant to LaBelle’s desire to whip the jury into such a frenzy that they would convict anyone he told them to convict.

“Is there any way of … quantifying the pain McNaughton would’ve experienced? Before his death?”

Barkley pondered a moment. “Have you ever cut your finger?” he asked, to the jury, not LaBelle. “Maybe the knife slipped while you were chopping vegetables? Maybe even just a paper cut. It hurts like heck, doesn’t it? For a brief moment, the pain is so intense you can’t think of anything else. But with those minor injuries, the pain passes, because the body’s healing agents take over. Seratonin is released; the wound reseals; the blood coagulates. But with Joe McNaughton, with injuries of such extraordinary number and degree, there was no hope of healing before his body had drained itself dry. That intense, unbearable pain stayed with him till the moment he died.”

The courtroom fell quiet for a moment, as all present contemplated something that was, in fact, too horrible to contemplate.

When he was ready to proceed again, LaBelle held up a knife in a plastic evidence bag. During Matthews’s turn on the stand, it had been admitted and labeled Exhibit Fourteen.

“I’m holding an exhibit that has been previously identified as a knife found in the file cabinet of an attorney working for the defendant, Keri Dalcanton. Have you seen this knife before?”

“I have.”

“And have you had an opportunity to examine this knife in conjunction with your autopsy of Joe McNaughton?”

“I didn’t have the knife when I performed my autopsy. But when I did receive the knife, I compared it to the notes I had made previously regarding the cause and instrumentality of death.”

“And did you reach any conclusions regarding the knife?” LaBelle was being more than usually careful not to lead the witness, Ben noticed. Presumably he thought he was on a roll and didn’t want it interrupted by objections from the defense.

“I did.”

“Dr. Barkley, in your expert opinion, is this knife consistent with the wounds you examined on Joe McNaughton?”

“It is.”

“And by that, do you mean that this knife could have been the weapon that caused McNaughton’s death?”

“I do,” Barkley said eagerly, “but I can go even further than that. Given the blood splatters on the knife and their shape, and the fact that the blood type is the same as McNaughton’s, and the matches between the serration pattern on the knife and striation pattern in me wounds, I think it is highly likely that this is the murder weapon. To a medical certainty, in fact.”

“Thank you, Dr. Barkley. I appreciate your candor.”

Was that candor? Ben wondered. Seemed more like blatant sucking up to him.

“Were there any other wounds on the body, other than those that led to death?”

“Oh yes. And many of them were gruesome in their own right, even if nonfatal.”

“Could you describe those injuries, please?”

“Well, I’ve already mentioned the penectomy. And there were horrendous scrapes and abrasions all over the body.”

“Would these abrasions be consistent with the body being dragged over a concrete or gravel surface?”

“Precisely so. I don’t think there’s any doubt but that’s what happened. And remember, the body had been stripped naked, so the effect of being dragged was profound.”

“Were there any other injuries?”

“Yes. The victim had suffered a severe contusion to the head, discoloring the left side of his face.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. There were several broken bones. When the body was chained to the fountain, both arms and one of the legs were stretched in unnatural, painful positions. One of the arms snapped, either when chained up or when removed.”

More than one juror shook his or her head.

“Would it be fair to say, Doctor, that the killer did not treat the victim with much care?”

Barkley frowned “I think it would be fair to say that the killer treated the body with intentional disrespect and cruelty.”

“Let me ask you another question, sir. There’s been a considerable discussion of physical strength in this trial. And in particular, whether the defendant, a small young woman—although one who exercised regularly and was in particularly good shape—could have accomplished the murder. Do you have an opinion on this subject?”

Ben gave Christina a nudge.

“Objection,” Christina said, springing to her feet. “Outside the scope of the witness’s expertise.”

“Not so,” LaBelle replied. “Who can speak more expertly on this subject than the doctor? He knows the precise weight of the deceased’s body. He knows exactly what rigors the body was put through. He knows what the human body is capable of doing. I believe this falls squarely within his field of specialty.”

“Well, it’s a little on the fringe,” Cable said, grudgingly acknowledging that Christina’s objection had some merit, “but I can’t say that it’s totally outside. I’ll allow it.”

Christina sat down, frowning. “Should I have argued more?”

“No,” Ben whispered. “Save your egregious conduct for when it really matters.”

“You may answer the question,” LaBelle told his witness obligingly.

“Thank you.” Barkley turned back toward the jury. “My opinion is that there was nothing involved in this murder that could not have been accomplished by any adult person of reasonable strength.”

“Even moving the body?”

“Yes. Remember, the body was dragged, not carried. A dead body is heavy, but dragging it isn’t that hard, particularly if you don’t care what happens to it along the way.”

“What about chaining the body to the fountain?” LaBelle was asking the hard questions himself, rather than leaving it to the defense. A smart strategy, especially since he and Barkley had undoubtedly already prepared answers.

“Admittedly, that would’ve been harder, but I still don’t believe it was outside the abilities of the average adult. The chains could have been used for leverage; that is, once they were tied to the body and wrapped around the fountain, a sort of rudimentary pulley system could’ve made it possible to get the body in place. And bearing in mind what the killer did to the body, I think it’s fair to assume there was some major adrenaline pumping, which always increases strength. Almost anyone could’ve done it, really.”

“Even a five-foot-three female weighing a hundred and three pounds?”

“Yes. Even her.” For the first time, Barkley glanced toward Keri. “Especially given her overall fitness and the undoubted rage she felt at the time.”

“Objection!” Christina said. This time she didn’t need nudging. “Definitely outside the scope.”

“Sustained,” Judge Cable replied calmly. “The jury will disregard.”

But as Ben and Christina both well knew, the damage was already done. The jury had heard it, and all the instructions in the world would not make them forget it.

“Dr. Barkley,” LaBelle continued, “were there any other indications you uncovered during your autopsy regarding the identity of the killer?”

“Yes. I discovered tiny yet discernible traces of skin under the victim’s fingernails.”

“Skin under the fingernails,” LaBelle repeated. “Tell me, Doctor, is there any way to determine conclusively whose skin it was?”

“There is now. DNA analysis.”

“And was any DNA testing done?”

“Yes. Fortunately, I discovered a sufficient quantity to be testable. My work was checked by an independent agency—CellTech, in Dallas.” He quickly added: “There is no doubt about the results: The DNA matches exemplars taken after arrest from the defendant, Keri Dalcanton.”

The good doctor had rushed ahead, Ben realized, because he and LaBelle both knew the question would draw an objection. If Barkley didn’t do the testing himself, he had no business announcing the results.

“Should I?” Christina whispered.

“Don’t bother. The word is out. And they would only call their CellTech rep to the stand to say the same thing. It’s getting in, one way or the other.”

LaBelle followed up equally quickly. “Is there any possibility of error on these DNA tests, Doctor?”

“Virtually none. The results were checked and double-checked, both by me and CellTech. There’s no doubt about it. Keri Dalcanton’s skin was under his fingernails. There was probably a struggle while she was stabbing him—”

“Objection!” Christina said.

“Sustained,” Judge Cable said. “The witness will refrain from speculating.”

“Let me ask it this way,” LaBelle said. “Was the location of the skin consistent with what you would expect when a man was trying to protect himself from a killer?”

“Of course. Perfectly.”

LaBelle nodded toward the defense table. “Your witness.”

Christina tried to act as if she wasn’t nervous about this, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself. Not that she hadn’t spoken out in court before, but cross-exing a major witness in a capital trial was a different matter altogether. She kept humming “I am strong, I am invincible” under her breath, but it wasn’t making much difference. She was terrified.

“Dr. Barkley, you’re the coroner, right?” It was a safe question, surely. How could he disagree?

“Actually no.”

Christina did a double take.

“My title is state medical examiner. That’s the terminology we use in Oklahoma, don’t ask me why. So to call me a coroner is technically incorrect.”

“But the descriptions are the same.”

“More or less, yes.”

Great start, Christina thought to herself. Maybe next I could get his name wrong or something. “As the medical examiner, do you perform autopsies on a regular basis?”

“Of course.”

“How often?”

He shrugged. “On average? Maybe a dozen a week.”

“And when you’re doing your dozen a week, do you normally speculate on how much pain the victim suffered? Is that a standard part of the medical examiner’s work-up?”

“Well … no.”

“Then why did you do it in this case?”

Barkley appeared slightly off guard. “I just answered the questions that were put to me.”

“Yes. And why did Mr. LaBelle want everyone to hear that? Is it relevant to determining how and when the victim died?”

“No.”

“Of course it isn’t. But it makes for a dramatic story, doesn’t it? Certain to fill the jury with contempt and loathing.”

“Objection,” LaBelle said. Christina wondered what had taken him so long. “Is that a question?”

“A good point,” Judge Cable replied. “You’re up there to ask questions, Ms. McCall. Not to give speeches. That part comes later.”

Oh, thank you so very much. “Doctor, your answer to the questions regarding pain and suffering were entirely speculative, weren’t they?”

Barkley appeared indignant. “They were based upon my medical examination.”

“Sir, isn’t it possible that the man went into shock, then unconsciousness, with the first blow? Or with that head blow, which might have come before the stabbing?”

“In my opinion—”

“I didn’t ask you for a self-serving opinion, Doctor. You’re not my expert.” Out of the corner of her eye, Christina could see LaBelle start to rise, but he ultimately decided to let it go. Better to let the good doctor take care of himself. “I asked if it was possible he went into shock or unconsciousness with the first blow.”

“I suppose it’s conceivable—”

“Or to put it in Mr. LaBelle’s terms—would that be consistent with the evidence?”

“Well, I suppose it’s an outside possibility, but—”

“So your answer is yes. Why didn’t you inform the jury of this possibility?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve admitted that there were two possible results. At least. And yet you chose to tell the jury about one possibility, and to ignore the other. Why did you mislead the jury? Is that because dying in pain is so much more dramatic than instant unconsciousness?”

Barkley sat up straight. “Mr. LaBelle asked me what I thought happened. I told him.”

“And I never once heard you admit the possibility of other results. You just told the jury what you wanted them to know.”

“That’s absurd. I—”

“What I wonder is, how many other alternate possibilities did you fail to tell the jury about?”

“Objection,” LaBelle said. It seemed restraint was at an end.

“Sustained,” the judge said sharply. “Counsel, move on to something else.”

Which she was happy to do, since she was finished anyway. The jury heard what she wanted them to hear. Hot dog, Christina thought, barely suppressing a smile. This cross-ex stuff wasn’t as bad as she thought. In fact, she kinda got a charge out of it.

“On the subject of other possibilities you didn’t mention to the jury, Doctor, let’s talk about that knife. You claim that Exhibit Fourteen is the murder weapon, right?”

“That was my testimony, yes.”

“But didn’t you also say that the shape of the knife was a common configuration?”

“Yes …”

“Which, translated to English, means a lot of people probably have this very same knife.”

“Not covered with blood.”

“C’mon, Doctor, there are a lot of ways a knife could get covered with blood, aren’t there? I mean, it is a knife, after all.”

“I suppose. But this blood was of McNaughton’s type—”

“Which is O, correct?”

“I believe that’s—”

“Which is the most common blood type in the world, right?”

He tilted his head to one side. “That is correct.”

“So contrary to what you told the jury—you don’t know if this is the knife that killed Joe McNaughton. All you can say for sure is that it’s the kind of knife that killed Joe McNaughton.”

“I hardly think it likely—”

“That it could be another knife?” Christina didn’t give him a moment to come up for air. “Is that based on your medical examination? Or what the police told you about where the knife was found?”

“Well … I suppose …”

“Doctor, are you testifying based on your medical expertise, or are you just regurgitating what the police told you?”

“Objection,” LaBelle said. “This is inappropriate.”

To Christina’s amazement, the judge did not immediately agree. “I don’t know, counsel. I think she is making a point.”

“She’s impugning the character and professionalism of the state medical examiner!”

“Well, that’s more or less her job here, isn’t it? Overruled.”

Christina wanted to jump into the air and give the judge a high five, but she managed to restrain herself. “Once again, Doctor, you failed to apprise the jury of all the possibilities. The murder could’ve been committed with a different knife, right?” This was a point of keen importance, because if it was another knife, there was no link to Keri.

“But this knife had finger—”

“Excuse me, Doctor, are you testifying outside the scope of your examination again?” Christina was well aware there was bad news to come about the knife with the next witness, but he was Ben’s problem, not hers.

Barkley drew in his breath. “It is remotely possible that another knife was involved.”

“Thank you very much, Doctor.” Yes! Could she cook, or could she? “Speaking of the knife, Doctor, we’re not even certain that the knife—any knife—was the cause of death, are we?”

“The body had between twenty and thirty wounds—”

“Yes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it was the cause of death, does it?”

“No one could sustain—”

“Did the body also suffer a severe blow to the head?”

“Yes …”

Christina checked her notes. “A contusion sufficient to dislodge the skull, correct?”

“Yes …”

“That’s a rather serious blow. Couldn’t that be fatal?”

“Given the evidence of bleeding—”

“You’re not answering my question, Doctor. Could that have been fatal?”

“I suppose it’s possible. But I don’t think—”

“And if that was the cause of death, then the knife had nothing to do with it.”

“The knife wounds were there!”

“Yes, but if they didn’t kill the man—if the blow to the head already did it—then the person who wielded the knife may have mutilated the body, but was not necessarily the killer.” There you go, Ben, she thought. Something for the next witness. Don’t say I never gave you anything.

“Based on the blood flow, I believe—”

“For that matter, the victim also suffered at least one severely broken limb, correct?”

“That’s true.” Barkley was looking less boyish and exuberant by the minute.

“Couldn’t that cause internal bleeding? Couldn’t that be fatal, too?”

“It could. But the external bleeding would’ve killed him first.”

“You’re assuming that all the injuries happened at about the same time. But we don’t know that, do we?”

He squirmed a bit. “Well … it seems logical.”

“Doctor, are you up there to testify as a logician?”

“Obviously not.”

“Then please don’t. The truth is, any of these things I’ve mentioned could have been the cause of death, right?”

“It’s … possible. But what difference—”

“Doctor, do you have any way of knowing whether the person who stabbed Sergeant McNaughton was also the same person who broke his arm or bashed him on the head?”

“Well, I assume—”

“But you don’t know, do you?”

“No.”

“So there could’ve been a second person. Someone who didn’t touch the knife.” Someone other than Keri, in other words.

Barkley was starting to cave. Evidently, he’d had enough. “I suppose it’s possible.”

“Thank you. As long as there’s room for doubt, it’s important for the jury to know it.” The operative word, of course, being doubt. As in reasonable. “Doctor, you said the skin sample found under the victim’s nails matched a sample taken from Keri Dalcanton. Some people might think that means they were exactly alike. But that isn’t so, is it?”

“It means the similarities between the two were sufficient to establish to a medical certainty—”

“Doctor, I’ve seen the analysis,” Christina said, holding a long strip of scrolled paper above her head. “They are not exactly alike, are they?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“So once again, what you’re actually saying, is not that you’re certain the skin came from Keri, but that it might have come from Keri.”

“The odds against it being anyone else—”

“This isn’t Vegas, Doctor. I’m not interested in the odds. I’m interested in telling the jury the truth. And the truth is, the skin might’ve come from Keri—but it could’ve come from someone else. It isn’t like fingerprints. You can’t say where it came from with absolute certainty.”

“DNA analysis never does,” Barkley protested. “But it can establish that the odds against the sample coming from anyone else are so—”

“Yes or no, Doctor—is it possible the sample came from someone else?”

“It’s possible, but—”

“Thank you for answering my question. It’s important that we separate the truth from the speculation.”

“Your honor,” LaBelle said. “She’s speechifying again.”

“I have warned you,” Judge Cable said, looking at Christina sternly. “Don’t let it happen again, young lady.”

I’ll try not to, old man. And watch the sexist remarks. “Speaking of speculation—that was a handy bit where you told the jury the skin must’ve gotten under his fingernails when McNaughton fought off his attacker. The truth is, you have no idea how that skin got there, do you?”

Barkley hesitated before answering. After being burned four times, he was undoubtedly reluctant to defend another assumption. “Given the circumstances, it seems reasonable—”

“You don’t know how it happened. You’re guessing again. Your testimony has been nothing but guesses strung together to support the prosecution’s unsubstantiated case.”

LaBelle started to object, but Barkley jumped in before he could. “Well, how else could it have gotten there!” he shouted. “It was her skin!”

“Were you in the courtroom yesterday, Doctor?”

“You know I was.”

“Then you undoubtedly heard the lurid and unnecessary testimony about the victim’s unusual sexual tastes.”

“I thought it was the defendant’s—”

“And you heard that he allegedly participated in … rough sex.”

Barkley’s face began to color. Apparently rough sex was not a topic LaBelle had prepared him to discuss. “So?”

“Well I’m not an expert, Doctor, but if two people are having rough sex—don’t you think it’s possible he might get her skin under his nails?”

“Well … how would—”

“Maybe a long scrape down the back during a moment of passion? A firm grip on the buttocks?”

Bentley was beet red. “How would I know?”

Christina smiled. “That’s just the point, Doctor. You don’t. That skin sample might’ve come from consensual sex—it might have nothing to do with the murder. You don’t know how the skin got there, just as you don’t know whether this knife is the murder weapon or whether the victim suffered much pain or even what precisely was the cause of death. You’re just guessing. And the jury is entitled to know that.”

LaBelle redirected, naturally, but after that whirlwind cross, there was only so much he could do. He’d made his points and Christina had made hers. The jury was ready for a new witness. And since he had a doozy waiting in the wings, it probably seemed smarter to move on.

During the recess between witnesses, Christina couldn’t resist asking. “So, Ben—I know this is kinda like the insecure guy who wants to know, Was it good for you, too?, but I have to ask anyway—what did you think of my first cross?”

“I only wish I’d been that good when I started,” Ben replied.

“You mean it? You thought I did okay? I mean, I thought I did okay, but maybe I’m too close to be objective.”

Ben smiled and gave her a punch on the shoulder. “It was good for me, too.”