“Do you believe the defendant developed this later in life or had it since birth?”
“The defendant’s great-grandfather suffered from schizophrenia, meaning schizophrenia is more likely to be inherited at some point down the line. Our final conclusion was that he has always had this disorder, but his positive upbringing and childhood never allowed it to have its typical effects. The disorder would have been dormant over the years, but his repetitive rejection could have easily woken it.”
“Which rejections are you referring to specifically?”
“The end of his romantic relationship after four years, and the repeated rejection in the workplace. It created a perfect storm.”
Jeremy watched the exchange continue back and forth, stunned as he saw what remained of his life flash by. Dr. Reed knew exactly what to say. He described his findings scientifically and immediately translated them to layperson’s terms for the jury.
Geoff and Dr. Reed carried on as gracefully as two friends catching up after time apart. Their confidence radiated throughout the courtroom.
Jeremy imagined being strapped to a gurney, an IV inserted into his arm as he awaited the sweet poison of death to fill his body. The two men’s voices drifted into background noise as he felt the room start to spin around him. He closed his eyes to try and gather himself and snapped out of it when Linda nudged him as she stood up.
All eyes were on the district attorney and the doctor as they completed their chat.
“Thank you, Dr. Reed,” Geoff said, his voice heartfelt.
“My pleasure,” the doctor replied.
Linda approached the podium and cleared her throat. Her hands trembled slightly, Jeremy could see—she knew this cross-examination would be instrumental in deciding the trial. They had decided before the trial that Linda would handle the technical witnesses, while Wilbert would cross-examine the emotional witnesses to play to his strengths as the storyteller.
“Good morning, Dr. Reed.” Linda needed to take a strong approach out of the gate. “I think your statements contradict themselves. You state that the defendant has had this mental illness throughout his whole life, but it remained hidden until negative events happened. Then all of a sudden he’s not mentally ill on the day of the shooting?”
“No, ma’am. I stated that he is mentally ill, but legally sane. He could still decipher right from wrong. What he did was wrong and he knew it.”
“I see. Dr. Reed, how common is the schizotypal personality disorder?”
“It’s not common. It occurs in roughly three percent of the population.”
“Is this disorder something you’ve come across in your decades of work in this field?”
“I have dealt with this disorder a couple times before, yes.”
“Was it in a criminal setting like this?”
“One case was; the other was clinical, in my practice.”
“Is it possible to suffer from this disorder and not have violent outbursts?”
“Yes, it is. This disorder starts more as depression and can remain in that stage for quite some time.”
“After reading your diagnosis a few months ago I did some reading on this disorder. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I understand that people with this disorder have trouble maintaining close relationships with those around them, due to fear that others are having negative thoughts about them. Paranoia, right?”
“Correct.”
“They also avoid forming new relationships altogether, is that correct?”
“Correct.”
“Well, Dr. Reed, I believe there are some flaws in your diagnosis. Mr. Heston never exhibited trouble maintaining relationships.”
“I disagree. He lost all contact with his girlfriend.” Dr. Reed took a combative tone with Linda.
“That’s true, but that’s life. Friendships and relationships end every day. People grow apart, especially after high school and college—which is exactly what happened here.”
The jury watched the exchange like a tennis match, moving their heads from Linda to Dr. Reed as they each spoke.
“Dr. Reed, I would never discredit your work. You’re as good as it gets in this field, but something is just not adding up for me. The defendant has a track record of being loved by his peers in the office, and interacted with the entire team quite often. I fully support that my client is suffering from a mental illness, but not from schizotypal personality disorder. The traits you mention don’t add up with the whole story.”
Go get him, Linda.
Dr. Reed hesitated a moment. “I stand by my diagnosis. The symptoms aren’t one-size-fits-all. Mr. Heston could have gone on every day at work as if everything were fine. A mental illness can affect parts of the brain and have minimal visible signs. Just like if you get the sniffles in the winter, but don’t develop a full cold. The human body fights illnesses, and the mind is no different.”
Linda glanced to Wilbert, who was sitting on the edge of his seat, then she flipped a few pages ahead in her notes.
“Dr. Reed, you’ve testified in 127 trials before today, and in 102 of those trials you were testifying on behalf of a prosecution against an insanity plea. Does that sound correct?”
“OBJECTION!” Geoff barked, saliva flying from his lips.
“Overruled!” Judge Zamora snapped back without missing a beat. “Answer the question, Dr. Reed.”
“Yes, that sounds correct.”
Linda walked in front of the podium, taking a power pose as she stepped closer to Dr. Reed. Wilbert sat further forward, nodding his head as his partner went in for the kill.
“Of those 102 defendants you testified as being legally sane, did you know thirteen of them have been treated by your own hospital? And ten others have since been diagnosed as having very serious mental illnesses that required immediate medical treatment?”
“OBJECTION!” Geoff begged.
“Overruled! Dr. Reed?”
“I didn’t know of this. I don’t follow up with defendants after the trials end.”
“Okay, but there’s still the thirteen in your very hospital, all of whom were prescribed medication. Do you know the doctor who signed off on those prescriptions?”
Dr. Reed looked down, his bald head glowing under the bright lights, beads of sweat starting to form. “I’m the only one who signs off on prescriptions in my hospital.”
“I see. So how much money did Mr. Batchelor offer you to testify against this defendant?”
“OBJECTION!” Geoff’s face turned bright red. Easy, Mr. Batchelor, the blood might start seeping out of your pores.
“Sustained,” Judge Zamora replied.
“No further questions, thank you for your time today.” Linda turned and walked away from the podium with her head high. If she’d had a microphone, Jeremy thought, she would have dropped it. She’d accomplished what she set out to: planting a seed of doubt about Dr. Reed’s credibility. The cross-examination had been a victory.
Jeremy looked across to Geoff and saw him furiously flipping through his notepad, his face turning purple like a plum.
“Let’s break for lunch and reconvene at 1 p.m. for the next witness,” Judge Zamora said, excusing everyone from the courtroom.
The gallery broke out in frantic discussion about what they had just witnessed. Linda had just called out the prosecution’s biggest witness as a fraud, and the district attorney could do nothing but sit there and take it.
The seed of doubt has been planted, Jeremy thought. It’s game time.
29
Chapter 29
November 2, 2017, 5 p.m.
“How on Earth did you do that?” Wilbert asked. They’d returned to the offices of Kennedy, Dobbs, and Irvine after court. The team back at the office buzzed with excitement after watching Linda do the impossible: discrediting the prosecution’s main witness.
“Did you see how red Batchelor turned?” an assistant cackled. “He looked like his head was gonna pop!”
As they all shared a laugh,
Linda was reminded that this truly was a team effort. Her team did the heavy lifting: compiling evidence, looking for any flaw in the opposition’s witnesses.
Wilbert sat in the seat across Linda’s desk. “I feel we have a huge advantage in this trial right now. Batchelor completely dropped the ball on Heston’s friend, Clark, and now this show you put on today with Dr. Reed. How did you find that stuff out? There’s no way any of that was public information.”
Linda crossed her office and closed the door before returning to her desk, where she stood and faced out the window. “We have someone on the inside,” she said for the first time out loud, letting the words hang in the air so she could contemplate them.
“Who? What do you mean?” Wilbert sat forward in his chair.
“I honestly don’t know.”
Linda sat down in her chair and pulled open a drawer. She retrieved a large manila envelope and dropped it on the desk in front of Wilbert, pointing to it like it was poisoned.
“I have no idea where that came from,” she said. “It came in with my mail. No note, no return address, nothing.”
Wilbert pulled the contents out of the envelope, a stack of about a hundred pieces of paper. Flipping through them, he found court documents from Dr. Reed’s past testimony in different trials, along with corresponding documents showing the admission and medication information for the same patients admitted to his hospital.
“What in the world?” Wilbert uttered under his breath as he flipped through the pages. “Has there been anything else?”
Linda nodded, and Wilbert stood and walked to her desk.
“Another envelope just like this came through a few months ago, with a list of all the jurors who had been summoned. Every last one of them. There was a check next to every person who was supposedly a good fit, along with notes on their views on the death penalty.”
Wilbert shook his head. “I don’t get it,” he said, dropping the envelope and papers on her desk. “Who could pull this off? And why?”
“I thought it might be his parents, seeing as they seem to have money to throw around for this trial. I had a friend run a background check for me, and their bank records don’t show enough money to cover something like this. The strange thing too is they don’t have the money in their accounts that they’ve been paying us with. Maybe they stash their cash in the mattress, but I just don’t know.”
“Something’s going on. Very suspicious. Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?”
“I didn’t know how you’d react. It’s a gray area. I didn’t do anything illegal, this stuff just showed up and I used it to our advantage.”
“It is shady, but if we have someone trying to help us win this case, I see no reason not to use the resources provided.” Wilbert continued to shake his head in disbelief. “Linda, this is all lining up as a once in a lifetime opportunity. And you’re front and center. Whoever your friend is, they’re going to change your life. Hell, they already have. You destroying that poor doctor on the stand is going to be all over the news. I hope you’re ready for stardom.”
“Please, there’s no such thing as famous lawyers.”
“Johnny Cochran was plenty famous, and he lived a luxurious life because of it.”
“He also fought for civil rights.”
“You don’t think that’s what you’re doing now? Fighting for the rights of the mentally ill?”
Linda considered this.
“That’s exactly what you’re doing,” Wilbert said without letting her respond. “There’s an entire community of mental health advocates following this trial, and they all want to see Heston receive an insanity verdict. It’s happened before, but never on such a grand stage.”
“I never looked at it that way,” Linda said. She’d grown so focused on how the trial would help her career that she never considered the implications it could have on the rest of the country watching. “I don’t know why this is all happening,” Linda said as she pulled the manila envelope back to herself. “Something about this trial just feels off.”
“No shit. You have a mystery person trying to fix the outcome—or at least heavily influence it. Who knows what else they’re doing behind the scenes.”
“What do we do?”
“We don’t do anything. We keep using what they’re sending us and move forward. Business as usual. Clearly the person is on our side. I don’t see any curveballs coming from the D.A. Let’s just keep this between us and there shouldn’t be any issues.”
“I need a drink.” Linda placed the envelope back in her drawer and pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses. “You’re gonna need some, too.”
30
Chapter 30
Friday, November 3, 2017
Day 10 of the trial
Friday marked the final day of the prosecution’s case before turning it over to the defense. Jeremy finished his breakfast and was led into the courtroom shortly after. He knew who the next witness was and wished he could hide. He’d never wanted his friends to suffer.
Everyone rose as Judge Zamora entered the courtroom. “Mr. Batchelor, you may call your next witness,” he said after he sat.
Geoff approached the podium. “Your Honor, we call Elayna Avery to the stand.”
Geoff pulled the wooden podium aside, clearing space in the aisle, and turned to the back of the courtroom, where two people stood pushing a blond woman in a wheelchair.
Jeremy turned to look. The woman who pushed Elayna in the wheelchair resembled her; he assumed it was her mother. Another woman trailed them, dressed in a business suit and carrying a large white board with the letters of the alphabet splayed across it.
Elayna was pushed to the witness stand, her arms gripping the side bars of her wheelchair and her stare fixed straight ahead. She looked past Jeremy, but he could see the hole where her right eye used to be.
“Mr. Batchelor, it’s my understanding that Ms. Avery is unable to physically speak, correct?” Judge Zamora asked.
“Yes, Your Honor. We have Ms. Sterling from the state here to relay the witness’s testimony.”
“Very well.” Judge Zamora turned to the woman called Mrs. Sterling. “Ms. Sterling, I need to administer an oath to you. Please raise your right hand.”
Ms. Sterling rose a skinny arm in the air.
“Do you solemnly swear and affirm under the penalty of law that you will accurately, impartially, and to the best of your abilities verbalize the answers of this witness?”
“I do.”
Judge Zamora turned to Elayna, now in the witness box and looking at the judge.
“Ms. Avery, do you solemnly swear that your testimony today will contain the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
“Ahhhhhh oooooh,” Elayna responded in a mumble. Jeremy’s heart ached. Despite her eye, which looked like a smashed mass of flesh, Elayna looked mostly herself. She wore a long, green dress that sparkled in the light, and had her once long blond hair cut to shoulder length.
Jeremy played back the day of March 11 in his mind and couldn’t recall shooting Elayna specifically. He remembered her shivering on the ground, though. He had assumed she would eventually pass on, but apparently she’d had the fight to keep going.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Geoff said from the pushed-aside podium. “Can you please spell your first name for the record?”
Elayna pointed at the big white board that had been placed in front of her and started jumping from letter to letter.
“E-L-A-Y-N-A,” Mrs. Sterling spoke from over Elayna’s shoulder.
“Were you in the Open Hands office on March 11, 2016?”
“Y-E-S,” Mrs. Sterling said as Elayna again pointed to the letters.
“No further questions, Your Honor.”
That’s it? Did he just use Elayna as an emotional pawn for the jury? Jeremy thought, fuming at the idea.
“Ms. Kennedy, any questions for the witness?”
“No, Your Honor,” Linda said as she stood an
d sat back down quickly.
“Thank you, Ms. Avery, you are excused,” Judge Zamora said to Elayna.
“Uhhhhhhh,” she moaned.
Fuck, Jeremy thought. Elayna would be disabled the rest of her life. Why couldn’t she have just let go? He remembered the police officer who testified about saving Elayna, her bleeding out in the backseat, and wondered how someone could actually will themselves to live. He wasn’t surprised to learn that Elayna had been the fighter to make it through, considering she had always strived to be the best on the team.
A bullet had gone through her eye, taking chunks of brain with it on the way out, and she still managed to live.
God bless her.
Jeremy felt tears welling in his eyes and blinked them out before anyone noticed.
Elayna’s mother returned and pushed Elayna out of the courtroom, Ms. Sterling trailing behind them once again. Geoff held open the gate for them and repositioned the podium once they exited.
“Mr. Batchelor, your next witness please,” the judge said.
“Your Honor, the prosecution rests.”
Cameras clicked in excitement from the single row of press and a murmur spread throughout the courtroom. Phase one of the trial was complete—things would start moving quickly now that they had made it through the prosecution’s laundry list of witnesses.
It hit Jeremy like an uppercut to the chin: by the following week, the rest of his life could very well be decided.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Judge Zamora said. “With the prosecution resting their case, I propose we adjourn court until Monday. Any oppositions to that from counsel?” Linda and Geoff shook their heads. “Very well. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, there will be a lot of press coverage of the trial this weekend, so I’ll remind you to avoid the television and any conversation surrounding this trial. With the prosecution finished, please bear in mind that they have the burden of proving the defendant was sane during the time of attack. Next week you’ll hear from the defense’s witnesses before we conclude for deliberation. Any questions?”
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