Superposition

^{CHAPTER 6}

The wooden spectator benches in courtroom five were hard and low and looked like they dated from Colonial times. Despite this, the crowds who gathered to see me humiliated had not abated, though they did tend to fidget in the uncomfortable seats as the afternoon wore on.

“Officer Lin, what is your profession?” Haviland asked, in a ringing voice that suggested that her profession would be the key to the whole case.

Brittany Lin was a pretty, dark-haired, Asian policewoman in a smart jacket and skirt and glasses like flat ovals. She was fit and athletic, and I guessed her age at about forty. “I’m a senior forensic analyst with the New Jersey State Police,” she said. Her voice was low pitched and no-nonsense.

“And your time in that position?”

“I’ve been a police officer for fourteen years and a forensic specialist for ten of those years.”

“Then it’s safe to say you are an expert in your field.”

“I know my business, Mr. Haviland.”

Haviland went on to establish her certifications as an investigator and the status granted her as an expert witness in various other courts. She had led the forensic team that had processed the crime scene in the underground bunker.

“At the time you were called to the scene, were you aware that police had been searching for Mr. Vanderhall?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why didn’t the police find him?”

“The bunker was two hundred feet underground, in a supposedly abandoned experiment room. No one even knew to look for him there.”

“Except for Jacob Kelley?”

“Objection,” Terry said. “Assumes facts not in evidence.”

“Sustained,” Judge Roswell said. “Mr. Haviland, please limit your questions to those about which the witness can have knowledge.”

“I apologize, Your Honor,” Haviland said. “Ms. Lin, what did you find when you entered the bunker?”

“I found a dead male, mid to late thirties, with a gunshot wound to the chest as the apparent cause of death. The victim had been dead approximately twelve hours,” Lin said.

Haviland made a note on his legal pad, as if this was a new piece of information he needed to write down. “How was time of death established?”

“The level of decomposition, given the warm temperature in the bunker and the mass of the victim, limits the time to no more than twelve hours, while the presence of firmly established livor mortis suggests at least that long.”

“What time was this analysis made?”

“At four o’clock in the afternoon on December third, placing the death at approximately four o’clock in the morning.”

Haviland held up his giant whiteboard timeline. “Permission to approach the witness, Your Honor?”

“Granted,” the judge said.

Haviland handed a huge red marker to the witness. “Ms. Lin, can you indicate for us on this timeline, using a red X, when the victim died?”

She complied, vigorously marking the spot as if she were etching it in blood. Haviland held it up again so the jury could see, then rotated it to include the audience. “Four AM on December third. Is that correct?” he said.

“Yes.”

“So, approximately eight hours after Mr. Vanderhall ran away from the Kelley residence, and five hours after the police finished questioning the family?”

“Objection,” Terry said. “Asked and answered.”

“Sustained, Mr. Haviland. Let’s move along.” Judge Roswell said.

“Yes, Your Honor.” Haviland flipped to another page in his notes. “Was any suicide note found on the premises?” he asked.

“No sir, there was not,” Lin said.

“Were Mr. Vanderhall’s injuries consistent with a theory of suicide?”

“No sir. Suicide was not a serious consideration.”

“Why not?”

Lin smiled condescendingly. “Mr. Vanderhall was shot in the middle of the chest from a distance of at least three feet. The insubstantial amount of gunshot residue found on his skin and clothing rules out the possibility that he was any nearer to the gun when it was fired. Besides which, he was then shot two more times while he was lying on the floor.”

“He was shot a total of three times? Was one shot not enough to kill him?”

“No sir, it would have been enough. The first shot passed through Mr. Vanderhall’s heart, almost certainly killing him before either of the other two shots was fired.”

“In your expert opinion, what do those extra shots suggest?”

“It’s what we call overkill. One shot might indicate an accident or a thoughtless action taken in a moment of passion. Multiple, unnecessary shots suggest that the murder was intentional. They suggest that the first shot, while sufficient to cause death, was not sufficient to complete the emotional experience. It means that this killer wanted to be very, very certain that Mr. Vanderhall was dead.”