The Innocent Woman

32

Next up, Dirkson called Dr. Andrew Stanton, a crisp, efficient looking young man with a no nonsense air about him. He took the stand and recited his qualifications as medical examiner, which included twelve years’ experience in that position, a rather surprising and impressive statistic in one so young.

“Now, then,” Dirkson said, “directing your attention to the evening of Thursday, June tenth, were you called upon to examine a body at that time?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Can you tell us when and where that was?”

“Yes. I was summoned to the office of F. L. Jewelry on West 47th. I arrived there at approximately ten twenty-five.”

“Approximately?”

Stanton smiled. “That was approximately when I arrived. I began my examination at ten twenty-nine.”

Dirkson smiled back. “Thank you, doctor. And what can you tell us about the body you examined?”

“He was a young man, say in his mid-thirties, of medium height and build. He was lying face down in the middle of the floor, with a pool of blood emanating from his chest.”

“You examined the body at that time?”

“Yes, I did.”

“What did you do?”

“First I determined that the man was dead. Of this, there was little doubt. Still, I verified the fact. I then conducted a preliminary examination of the body to determine the apparent cause of death.”

“And what was that?”

“Blood had come from a wound where something had penetrated the chest. From the location of the wound and the extent of the blood, it was likely this object had also penetrated the heart.”

“Could you tell what this object was?”

“It was apparently a bullet, though I did not make that determination then.”

“But you did make it later?”

“Yes. In the lab. When I conducted my autopsy.”

“And what did that object prove to be?”

“A bullet, which had penetrated the chest and lodged in the heart.”

“You recovered the bullet from the heart of the victim?”

“That is correct.”

“Tell me, doctor, did you take any steps so that it would be possible for you to identify this bullet?”

“Yes, I did. I scratched my initials, A. S. for Andrew Stanton, on the base of the bullet.”

Dirkson nodded his approval. “Thank you, doctor.” He strode to the prosecution table, picked up a small plastic bag. “Your Honor, I ask that this be marked for identification as People’s Exhibit One.”

“So ordered.”

When the court reporter had marked the exhibit, Dirkson took it and returned to the witness stand. “Doctor, I hand you a plastic bag marked for identification People’s Exhibit One and ask you what it contains.”

Doctor Stanton took the bag and examined the contents. “This is the bullet that I removed from the body of the decedent.”

“How do you recognize it?”

“As I said, by my initials, A. S., which I scratched on the base.”

Dirkson nodded approvingly. “Thank you, doctor. You say you removed this bullet from the body during your autopsy?”

“That’s right.”

“Did your autopsy determine the cause of death?”

“Yes, of course. The bullet was the cause of death. The man had been shot in the heart.”

“The bullet that you have identified, the one with your initials on it, the one marked for identification People’s Exhibit One?”

“That’s right.”

“That bullet was the cause of death?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Did you find any other cause of death? Any contributing factors?”

“No, I did not.”

“The bullet was, in your opinion, the sole and sufficient cause of death?”

“Absolutely. There is no doubt in my mind.”

“I see. Tell me, doctor. Did you determine the time of death?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And what did you determine that to be?”

“The decedent met his death on Thursday evening, June tenth, between the hours of seven-thirty and eight-thirty P.M.”

“Can you tell us how you made that determination, doctor?”

“Certainly. The decedent met his death approximately two and a half hours before my preliminary examination. You’ll recall I began my examination by ten twenty-nine. I had taken the body temperature by ten thirty-two. The body temperature was ninety-four point nine.” Dr. Stanton smiled. “The rest is simply mathematics. Normal body temperature is, as you know, ninety-eight point six. After death, the body cools. The rate of cooling is approximately one and one half degrees Fahrenheit per hour. The body I examined was ninety-four point nine, which is three point seven degrees cooler than normal. If the body cools one and one half degrees per hour, three degrees would be two hours, and point seven degrees would be approximately a half an hour. So the three point seven degrees of cooling indicated the body had been dead approximately two and a half hours. Since the temperature was taken at ten thirty-two, that put the time of death at approximately eight o’clock. The reasonable parameters when death might have occurred would be seven-thirty to eight-thirty.”

“You say death could have occurred from seven-thirty to eight-thirty?”

“That’s right.”

“When was death most likely to have occurred?”

“In my opinion, right around eight o’clock.”

“Thank you, doctor. That’s all.”

In the back of the courtroom, Tracy Garvin shifted in her seat. Steve Winslow loved to go after doctors. He explained it once that many doctors come across as self-assured and arrogant, and jurors just naturally love to see them torn down. So Steve always did his best to trip them up.

The problem was, he usually concentrated on the time of death. Usually, it was Steve who brought up the rate of cooling, made the doctor do the math. He used the math to contradict something the doctor had previously said.

But Dirkson had walked the doctor through the time of death, and in Tracy’s opinion, he had nailed it pretty well. If Tracy thought so, it was a cinch the jurors thought so too. So she wondered just what Steve was going to do.

It appeared Steve Winslow didn’t know either. He got up, frowned, looked at the doctor, frowned again, and looked around as if trying to think of something to ask. After a moment he walked over to the court reporter’s table, where Dirkson had returned the plastic bag containing the bullet. He picked it up and approached the witness.

“This bullet, doctor?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have testified that it was this bullet that was the sole and sufficient cause of death of the decedent, Frank Fletcher?”

“That is correct.”

“Are you certain of that?”

“Yes, I am.”

“No secondary cause of death? No contributing factors?”

Stanton shook his head. “None that was apparent in my autopsy.”

“And I assume your autopsy was quite thorough?”

“Absolutely.”

“Did you test for poisons?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Drugs?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Did you find any?”

“Nothing significant.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I say. I found nothing that would be significant.”

Steve smiled. “Did you find anything that was insignificant?”

“I got a faint positive for cocaine.”

“A faint positive?”

“That’s right.:”

“Is that like a little bit pregnant?”

“No, it is not. I got a borderline reading that might have been a trace residual effect of recreational cocaine use. But it was too faint to be conclusive. To put it one way, if this were a baseball player undergoing mandatory drug testing, the reading would not have been sufficient to determine he had flunked the test.”

“But the test did indicate a trace of cocaine?”

“Possibly. It could also have been a false positive. The only significance of the test would be to indicate that at a future time, it might be wise to test again.” Stanton smiled. “In the present case, that is not applicable.”

“Be that as it may, doctor, no matter how hard you try to minimalize this finding, the fact is this test revealed a trace residue of cocaine.”

“Which could not in any way have contributed to the cause of death,” Dr. Stanton said. “I want to make that perfectly clear. When I stated I found no contributing causes of death, that was entirely accurate. There are no contributing causes of death, no matter how much you may want to make out of this one particular test.”

“I’m not trying to make anything out of it, doctor, other than to bring out the fact it exists. Now then was there anything else revealed by your autopsy that you failed to tell us about?”

Dr. Stanton’s eyes narrowed. “I did not fail to tell you about it,” he snapped. “I was asked for the cause of death. I’ve given you the cause of death, and everything significant relating to the cause of death. I have not given you every extraneous and unrelated matter that had nothing to do with the cause of death. My autopsy also revealed the man suffered from hemorrhoids. Would you like to take me to task for failing to mention that?”

Judge Wylie banged the gavel. “That will do. Doctor, I can understand the provocation, but please try to avoid sparring with counsel.”

“Sorry, Your Honor.”

“Proceed.”

Steve Winslow held up the plastic bag. “Now then, doctor, getting back to this bullet. The one you told us about. The one that is the sole and sufficient cause of death. The one that this trace residue of cocaine was not a contributing factor to.”

“Objection, Your Honor.”

“Sustained. Mr. Winslow, if you could likewise avoid baiting the witness?”

“Yes, Your Honor. Dr. Stanton, regarding this bullet-is it then your testimony that this bullet is the sole and sufficient cause of death of the decedent, Frank Fletcher?”

“Yes, it is.”

“This particular bullet?”

“Yes. If that’s Exhibit One,” Stanton said, “that’s the bullet.”

“Oh, it’s Exhibit One,” Steve said. “I wouldn’t switch bullets on you, doctor. Here. See for yourself.”

He handed Dr. Stanton the plastic bag. Stanton took it, looked at it, started to hand it back.

“No, hang on to it for a minute, doctor,” Steve said. “I’d like to ask you some questions about the bullet. To begin with, tell us again how you recognize it as the bullet you took from the body of the decedent?”

“As I said, I scratched my initials on the base.”

“And your initials are?”

“A.S. For Andrew Stanton.”

“I see. And can you find your initials on the base of the bullet now?”

“Yes, of course. They’re right here.”

“The court reporter will please note that he is indicating the flat part of the bullet on which he scratched the initials A and S.”

Steve left the doctor holding the plastic bag, stepped back and said, “And that is how you identify this as the bullet you recovered from the body of Frank Fletcher?”

“That’s right.”

“Tell me, doctor. What caliber is that bullet?”

Stanton smiled. “I’m not a ballistics expert.”

“You’re telling me you don’t know?”

“Only by hearsay.”

“You’ve been told the caliber of the bullet?”

“That is correct.”

“You can’t tell yourself?”

“I can make a good guess. But I’m not up here to testify to guesswork.”

“So when you identify this bullet as the one you took from the body of the decedent, you’re not going by the caliber, are you?”

“No, I’m not. As I said, I marked the bullet.”

“You marked it A.S.?”

“That’s right.”

“Because those are your initials?”

“Yes.”

“Doctor, you stated that you’ve been a medical examiner for twelve years?”

“That’s right.”

“Tell me. Is this the first fatal bullet you’ve ever recovered?”

“No, of course not.”

“How many fatal bullets have you recovered in your career?”

“I really couldn’t say.”

“Would it be hundreds?”

“Perhaps a hundred. Perhaps more. I’ve never counted, but I’ve certainly seen my share of bullets.”

“Fatal bullets?”

“Yes, fatal bullets.”

“We’re talking about fatal bullets that you recovered during the course of an autopsy?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Are you saying that you’ve recovered as many as a hundred fatal bullets during the course of your autopsies?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Did you mark them, doctor?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The fatal bullets you recovered-did you mark them?”

“Yes, of course.”

“How did you mark them?”

“With my initials.”

“And your initials are A.S.?”

“That’s right.”

“And always have been A.S.? You haven’t changed your name, have you doctor?”

“Objection.”

“Sustained.”

“You say you have marked fatal bullets with your initials. Have those initials always been A.S.?”

“Yes, of course.”

“To the best of your recollection, you have marked every fatal bullet you ever recovered?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“You have recovered by your own estimation perhaps a hundred fatal bullets?”

“Yes.”

“Well, doctor, what is there about the bullet in your hand, the bullet marked for identification as People’s Exhibit One, the bullet you have marked with your initials A.S., that enables you to distinguish it from any of the other fatal bullets you have recovered in your career, which you testified that you also marked A.S.?”

Dr. Stanton opened his mouth to say something. Closed it again.

“Can you answer that, doctor?”

“Objection. Badgering the witness,” Dirkson said.

“Overruled.”

“You want to answer that, doctor?” Steve said.

Stanton took a breath. “I can only say the question has no relevance. There is only one bullet involved in this particular case. There is no other bullet for it to be confused with.”

“Then why mark it at all?”

“To show it was the bullet that was recovered in my autopsy.”

“But if I understand your testimony correctly, all that it shows is that it is one of the bullets that you recovered in one of your many autopsies.”

“Nonsense,” Stanton said. “That’s the bullet that I took from the body of the decedent, Frank Fletcher.”

“How do you know?”

“How do I know anything?” Dr. Stanton said angrily. “I removed the bullet myself. I marked it. I delivered it to the police.”

“Exactly,” Steve said. “You let the bullet out of your custody. What is there about the bullet you hold in your hand that indicates it is the same bullet that you marked and delivered to the police?”

“I would think my initials should be sufficient.”

“Then let me ask you this, doctor. If I were to introduce ballistics evidence that the bullet that you hold in your hand had been fired by a gun that was proved to have killed a man on whom you had performed an autopsy last year, is there anything in your testimony or would you have any way whatsoever to prove that this was not the bullet that you recovered in that autopsy?”

“Objection. Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”

“It is a hypothetical question only, Your Honor, for the purpose of impeachment.”

“It is an impeaching question. The objection is overruled.”

“Would you have any way of proving this was not that bullet, doctor?”

Stanton took a breath. “No, I would not.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Steve Winslow turned to Judge Wylie. “Your Honor, at this time I would like to move that the doctor’s testimony regarding the bullet, People’s Exhibit One, being the fatal bullet, be stricken from the record and the jurors instructed to disregard it.”

Dirkson was immediately on his feet, but Judge Wylie cut him off. “I will not hear arguments at the present time. Let’s take a brief recess. Show the jury out. We can reconvene and discuss this motion. Jurors are advised not to talk among themselves. Court stands in recess for half an hour.