I rushed to my own defense.
“He’s talking about this being a ploy by the defense and I object to the accusation.”
The judge quickly held his hands up in a calming gesture.
“Just hold your horses, both of you. I didn’t talk to number seven yet. I spent the weekend thinking about how to proceed with it when I came to court today. I conferred with a few other judges on the matter and I was fully prepared to bring it up with counsel present this morning. The only problem is, juror number seven didn’t show up today. He’s not here.”
That brought a pause to both Golantz and me.
“He’s not here?” Golantz said. “Did you send deputies to—?”
“Yes, I sent court deputies to his home, and his wife told them that he was at work but she didn’t know anything about court or a trial or anything like that. They went over to Lockheed and found the man and brought him here a few minutes ago. It wasn’t him. He was not juror number seven.”
“Judge, you’re losing me,” I said. “I thought you said they found him at work.”
The judge nodded.
“I know. I did. This is beginning to sound like Laurel and Hardy and that ‘Who’s on first?’ thing.”
“Abbott and Costello,” I said.
“What?”
“Abbott and Costello. They did the ‘Who’s on first?’ thing.”
“Whichever. The point is, juror number seven was not juror number seven.”
“I’m still not following you, Judge,” I said.
“We had number seven down in the computer as Rodney L. Banglund, engineer from Lockheed, resident of Palos Verdes. But the man who has been sitting for two weeks in seat number seven is not Rodney Banglund. We don’t know who he was and now he’s missing.”
“He took Banglund’s place but Banglund didn’t know about it,” Golantz said.
“Apparently,” the judge said. “ Banglund—the real one—is being interviewed about it now, but when he was in here he didn’t seem to know anything about this. He said he never got a jury summons in the first place.”
“So his summons was sort of hijacked and used by this unknown person?” I said.
The judge nodded.
“So it appears. The question is why, and the sheriff’s department will hopefully get that answered.”
“What does this do to the trial?” I asked. “Do we have a mistrial?”
“I don’t think so. I think we bring the jury out, we explain that number seven’s been excused for reasons they don’t need to know about, we drop in the first alternate and go from there. Meantime, the sheriff’s department quietly makes damn sure everybody else in that box is exactly who they are supposed to be. Mr. Golantz?”
Golantz nodded thoughtfully before speaking.
“This is all rather shocking,” he said. “But I think the state would be prepared to continue—as long as we find out that this whole thing stops at juror number seven.”
“Mr. Haller?”
I nodded my approval. The session had gone as I had hoped.
“I’ve got witnesses from as far as Paris in town and ready to go. I don’t want a mistrial. My client doesn’t want a mistrial.”
The judge sealed the deal with a nod.
“Okay, go on back out there and we’ll get this thing going in ten minutes.”
On the way down the hall to the courtroom Golantz whispered a threat to me.
“He’s not the only one who’s going to investigate this, Haller.”
“Yeah, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means when we find this bastard we’re also going to find out what he was doing on the jury. And if there is any tie to the defense, then I’m go—”
I pushed by him toward the door to the courtroom. I didn’t need to listen to the rest.
“Good for you, Jeff,” I said as I entered the courtroom.
I didn’t see Stallworth and hoped the deputy had gone out into the hallway as I had instructed and was waiting. Elliot was all over me when I got to the defense table.
“What happened? What’s going on?”
I used my hand to signal him to keep his voice down. I then whispered to him.
“Juror number seven didn’t show up today and the judge looked into it and found out he was a phony.”
Elliot stiffened and looked like somebody had just pressed a letter opener two inches into his back.
“My God, what does this mean?”
“For us, nothing. The trial continues with an alternate juror in his place. But there will be an investigation of who number seven was, and hopefully, Walter, it doesn’t come to your door.”
“I don’t see how it could. But we can’t go on now. You have to stop this. Get a mistrial.”
I looked at the pleading look on my client’s face and realized he’d never had any faith in his own defense. He had been counting solely on the sleeping juror.
“The judge said no on a mistrial. We go with what we’ve got.”
Elliot rubbed a shaking hand over his mouth.
“Don’t worry, Walter. You’re in good hands. We’re going to win this thing fair and square.”
Just then the clerk called the courtroom to order and the judge bounded up the steps to the bench.
“Okay, back on the record with California versus Elliot,” he said. “Let’s bring in our jury.”
Forty-eight
The first witness for the defense was Julio Muniz, the freelance videographer from Topanga Canyon who got the jump on the rest of the local media and arrived ahead of the pack at the Elliot house on the day of the murders. I quickly established through my questions how Muniz made his living. He worked for no network or local news channel. He listened to police scanners in his home and car and picked up addresses for crime scenes and active police situations. He responded to these scenes with his video camera and took film he then sold to the local news broadcasts that had not responded. In regard to the Elliot case, it began for him when he heard a call-out for a homicide team on his scanner and went to the address with his camera.
“Mr. Muniz, what did you do when you arrived there?” I asked.
“Well, I got my camera out and started shooting. I noticed that they had somebody in the back of the patrol car and I thought that was probably a suspect. So I shot him and then I shot the deputies stringing crime scene tape across the front of the property, things like that.”
I then introduced the digital videocassette Muniz used that day as the first defense exhibit and rolled the video screen and player in front of the jury. I put in the cassette and hit “play.” It had been previously spooled to begin at the point that Muniz began shooting outside the Elliot house. As the video played, I watched the jurors paying close attention to it. I was already familiar with the video, having watched it several times. It showed Walter Elliot sitting in the back passenger seat of the patrol car. Because the video had been shot at an angle above the car, the 4a designation painted on its roof was clearly visible.
The video jumped from the car to scenes of the deputies cordoning off the house and then jumped back again to the patrol car. This time it showed Elliot being removed from the car by detectives Kinder and Ericsson. They uncuffed him and led him into the house.
Using a remote, I stopped the video and rewound it back to a point where Muniz had come in close on Elliot in the backseat of the patrol car. I started the video forward again and then froze the image so the jury could see Elliot leaning forward because his hands were cuffed behind his back.
“Okay, Mr. Muniz, let me draw your attention to the roof of the patrol car. What do you see painted there?”
“I see the car’s designation painted there. It is four-A, or four alpha, as they say on the sheriff’s radio.”
“Okay, and did you recognize that designation? Had you seen it before?”
“Well, I listen to the scanner a lot and so I am familiar with the four-alpha designation. And I had actually seen the four-alpha car earl
ier that day.”
“And what were the circumstances of that?”
“I had been listening to the scanner and I heard about a hostage situation in Malibu Creek State Park. I went out to shoot that, too.”
“What time was this?”
“About two a.m.”
“So, about ten hours before you were videoing the activities at the Elliot house you went out to shoot video at this hostage situation, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“And the four-alpha car was involved also in this earlier incident?”
“Yes, when the suspect was finally captured, he was transported in four-alpha. The same car.”
“About what time did that occur?”
“That wasn’t until almost five in the morning. It was a long night.”
“Did you shoot video of this?”
“Yes, I did. That footage comes earlier on the same tape.”
He pointed to the frozen image on the screen.
“Then, let’s see,” I said.
I hit the “rewind” button on the remote. Golantz immediately stood, objected, and asked for a sidebar. The judge waved us up and I brought along the witness list I had submitted to the court two weeks earlier.
“Your Honor,” Golantz said angrily. “The defense is once again sandbagging. There has been no indication in discovery or otherwise of Mr. Haller’s intent to explore some other crime with this witness. I object to this being introduced.”
I calmly slid the witness list in front of the judge. Under the rules of discovery, I had to list each witness I intended to call and give a brief summary of what their testimony was expected to include. Julio Muniz was on my list. The summary was brief but all-inclusive.
“It clearly says he would testify about video he shot on May second, the day of the murders,” I said. “The video he shot at the park was shot on the day of the murders, May two. It’s been on there for two weeks, Judge. If anybody is sandbagging, then it’s Mr. Golantz sandbagging himself. He could have talked to this witness and checked out his videos. He apparently didn’t.”
The judge studied the witness list for a moment and nodded.
“Objection overruled,” he said. “You may proceed, Mr. Haller.”
I went back and rewound the video and started to play it. The jury continued to pay maximum interest. It was a night shoot and the images were more grainy and the scenes seemed to jump around more than in the first sequence.
Finally, it came to footage showing a man with his hands cuffed behind his back being placed in a patrol car. A deputy closed the door and slapped the roof twice. The car drove off and came directly by the camera. As it was going by I froze the image.
The screen showed a grainy shot of the patrol car. The light of the camera illuminated the man sitting in the backseat as well as the roof of the car.
“Mr. Muniz, what’s the designation on the roof of that car?”
“Again it’s four-A or four-alpha.”
“And the man being transported, where is he sitting?”
“In the rear right passenger seat.”
“Is he handcuffed?”
“Well, he was when they put him in the car. I shot it.”
“His hands were cuffed behind his back, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Now, is he in the same position and seat in the patrol car that Mr. Elliot was in when you videotaped him about eight hours later?”
“Yes, he is. Exact same position.”
“Thank you, Mr. Muniz. No further questions.”
Golantz passed on cross-examination. There was nothing about the direct that could be attacked and the video didn’t lie. Muniz stepped down. I told the judge I wanted to leave the video screen in place for my next witness and I called Deputy Todd Stallworth to the stand.
Stallworth looked angrier as he came into the courtroom. This was good. He also looked beat and his uniform looked like it had wilted on his body. One of the sleeves of his shirt had a black scuff mark on it, presumably from some struggle during the night.
I quickly established Stallworth’s identity and that he was driving the alpha car in the Malibu district during the first shift on the day of the murders in the Elliot house. Before I could ask another question, Golantz once more objected and asked for another sidebar. When we got there, he raised his hands palms up in a What’s this? gesture. His style was getting old with me.
“Judge, I object to this witness. The defense hid him on the witness list among the many deputies who were on the scene and have no bearing on the case.”
Once again I had the witness list ready. This time I slapped it down in front of the judge with frustration, then ran my finger down the column of names until I reached Todd Stallworth. It was there in the middle of a list of five other deputies, all of whom had been on the scene at the Elliot house.
“Judge, if I was hiding Stallworth, I was hiding him in plain sight. He’s clearly listed there under law enforcement personnel. The explanation is the same as before. It says he’ll testify about his activities on May 2. That’s all I put down because I never talked to him. I’m hearing what he has to say for the first time right now.”
Golantz shook his head and tried to maintain his composure.
“Judge, from the start of this trial, the defense has relied on trickery and deception to—”
“Mr. Golantz,” the judge interrupted, “don’t say something you can’t back up and that will get you in trouble. This witness, just like the first one Mr. Haller called, has been on this list for two weeks. Right there in black-and-white. You had every opportunity to find out what these people were going to say. If you didn’t take that opportunity, then that was your decision. But this is not trickery or deception. You better watch yourself.”
Golantz stood with his head bowed for a moment before speaking.
“Your Honor, the state requests a brief recess,” he finally said in a quiet voice.
“How brief?”
“Until one o’clock.”
“I wouldn’t call two hours brief, Mr. Golantz.”
“Your Honor,” I cut in. “I object to any recess. He just wants to grab my witness and turn his testimony.”
“Now that I object to,” Golantz said.
“Look, no recess, no delay, and no more bickering,” the judge said. “We’ve already lost most of the morning. Objection overruled. Step back.”
We returned to our places and I played a thirty-second cut of the video showing the handcuffed man being placed in the back of the 4-alpha car at Malibu Creek State Park. I froze the image in the same spot as before, just as the car was speeding by the camera. I left it on the screen as I continued my direct examination.
“Deputy Stallworth, is that you driving that car?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Who is the man in the backseat?”
“His name is Eli Wyms.”
“I noticed that he was handcuffed before being placed in the car. Is that because he was under arrest?”
“Yes, he was.”
“What was he arrested for?”
“For trying to kill me, for one. He was also charged with unlawful discharge of a weapon.”
“How many counts of unlawful discharge of a weapon?”
“I can’t recall the exact number.”
“How about ninety-four?”
“That sounds about right. It was a lot. He shot the place up out there.”
Stallworth was tired and subdued but unhesitant in his answers. He had no idea how they fit into the Elliot case and didn’t seem to care about trying to protect the prosecution with short, nonresponsive answers. He was probably mad at Golantz for not getting him out of testifying.
“So you arrested him and took him to the nearby Malibu station?”
“No, I transported him all the way to the county jail in downtown, where he could be placed on the psych level.”
“How long did that take? The drive, I mean.”
“About an hour.”
“And then you drove back to Malibu?”
“No, first I had four-alpha repaired. Wyms had fired a shot that took out the side lamp. While I was downtown, I went to the motor pool and had it replaced. That took up the rest of my shift.”
“So when did the car return to Malibu?”
“At shift change. I turned it over to the day-watch guys.”
I looked down at my notes.
“That would have been deputies… Murray and Harber?”
“That’s right.”
Stallworth yawned and there was murmured laughter in the courtroom.
“I know we have you past your bedtime, Deputy. I won’t take too much longer. When you turn the car over from shift to shift, do you clean it out or disinfect the car in any way?”
“You’re supposed to. Realistically, unless you’ve got puke in the backseat, nobody does that. The cars get taken out of rotation once or twice a week and the motor guys clean them up.”
“Did Eli Wyms puke in your car?”
“No, I would’ve known.”
More murmured laughter. I looked down from the lectern at Golantz and he wasn’t smiling at all.
“Okay, Deputy Stallworth, let me see if I got this right. Eli Wyms was arrested for shooting at you and firing at least ninety-three other shots that morning. He was arrested, his hands were cuffed behind his back, and he was transported by you downtown. Do I have all of that right?”
“Sounds right to me.”
“In the video, Mr. Wyms can be seen in the rear passenger side seat. Did he stay there for the whole hour-long ride downtown?”
“Yes, he did. I had him belted in.”
“Is it standard procedure to place someone who is in custody on the passenger side?”
“Yes, it is. You don’t want him behind you when you’re driving.”
“Deputy, I also noticed on the tape that you did not place Mr. Wyms’s hands in plastic bags or anything of that nature before placing him in your patrol car. Why is that?”
“Didn’t think it was necessary.”
“Why?”
“Because it was not going to be an issue. The evidence was overwhelming that he had fired the weapons in his possession. We weren’t worried about gunshot residue.”
The Brass Verdict Page 33