“There were also petechiae, small hemorrhages of the skin. They look like pinpoints of red on the skin. They are a sign of asphyxiation.”
“And where were these located?”
“I found petechiae in the mucosa of the lower lip. I didn’t find them on the neck or anywhere on the external skin, on the conjunctiva of the eyes, or on the deep internal organs. You do look for petechiae there, but their absence doesn’t disprove strangulation.”
Copies of photos of Misumi’s “petechiae” were now going around. Even the hardened jurors blanched at the one Misumi was now discussing.
“There were also internal signs of strangulation. Here. Exhibit A-fourteen,” she said. “I took that photograph at the postmortem.”
“And what does it indicate?”
“See the little red spots? Petechiae.”
“Located where?”
“On the underside of the scalp. In the picture, the scalp was shown reflected forward over the face”-and this was something even Nina couldn’t stand to look at-“which shows the undersurface of the scalp. Petechiae due to strangulation were found there.”
“And did you note any other internal evidence of strangulation?”
Misumi picked up her report and read from it. “I did a complete dissection, removing the larynx, including the hyoid bone. It wasn’t broken, but it only gets broken in about one third of strangulation cases, so that’s not telling. I examined the superficial and deep musculature. Nothing there, no contusions. I examined the laryngeal skeleton for fracture. Nothing. I then opened the cervical spine and examined it for injury. Nothing. So the internal examination of the neck was, I would say, inconclusive, but the external evidence was quite clear.”
Jaime had been sitting at the counsel table as he fired these questions. Now he went around the counsel table, sucking in his gut, an imposing, stocky, authoritative figure for the jury to observe. Standing near both the jury box and Stefan, he asked, “Is there any way to tell whether the attacker was a man or woman based on your postmortem, Doctor?”
“You could estimate the amount of force involved, which in this case was considerable, to leave the thumb impression. But no, that wouldn’t rule out a woman. Very little force is needed to strangle someone who is unconscious or intoxicated, especially a small woman like this one. Although the blood tests showed the victim had not been drinking much, even a small force applied in the right place can get past the protective muscles and skeleton.”
“And-”
“May I add something?”
“Surely,” Jaime said, waving his hand in courtly fashion.
“The amount of force required also varies depending on the amount of neck musculature of the victim. In this case the victim was somewhat frail, with rather less musculature than I would expect. That means less force would have been needed, than, for example, to strangle a football player.”
“You’re saying it would have been easy for a muscular young man to do the job?” Jaime asked.
“Oh, yes. If she was unable to get away from him.”
“Did you try to match the thumb contusion with thumbprints of the defendant?”
“That can be done only very rarely, and not in this case.”
Nina noted this, thinking, Maybe Ginger can do better.
“Which leads us to that glass,” Jaime said.
“The broken glass?”
“Yes. Did you find any glass slivers in the clothing or on the body of the victim?”
“No,” Misumi said definitely.
“Lastly, did you do an examination on the bones that were found in Stefan Wyatt’s car on the morning he was arrested?”
“We examined the bones and established that they belonged in the coffin found in the grave below the body of Christina Zhukovsky. After that determination was made, the bones were returned to the next of kin, Alex Zhukovsky, and it is my understanding that all the bones were then cremated.” She glanced at some notes. “Oh, let me correct that. The defense forensics expert still has two bones pursuant to an agreement with our office.”
“Thank you.” Jaime sat down. As he did, a stocky blond man sitting at the back of the courtroom left. Nina felt Paul turning to watch, and she glanced at the man, but quickly returned to her study of Susan Misumi. First, Misumi’s eyes studied Paul, who was looking away. He turned back to the front and she caught him with her eyes.
She smiled. Nina, observing her, did not see Paul’s reaction, but the smile went on for a significant period of time, about as long as it takes for two smiles to tango.
Then, as Klaus took the cross-examination, Misumi looked disappointed, maybe, as though she had wanted to engage Nina. Klaus had two points to make, and he repeated them several times in different ways-the thumbprint couldn’t be matched to Stefan, and no other testimony she had given implicated Stefan in the crime. And Christina could have been strangled by a woman.
Klaus seemed full of energy. His questions were pointed, and he really did have a lot of the old charm, working the jury as he went. He didn’t forget what he was going to say next.
He was fine. Nina waited from second to second for a lapse, but there wasn’t one. Was he having major problems, or wasn’t he?
Judge Salas had been watching the clock. At 2:45 P.M. he began getting restless. The minute Klaus finished, he gave the jury their weekend instructions not to talk to anyone about the case and not to read the papers or watch any TV news.
The gavel rapped. Salas disappeared. All rose while the jurors filed out, looking as if they had paid their dues today. Then the courtroom emptied fast.
“Chin up,” Klaus told Stefan as he was led into the back.
Nina drove them back in the Jag in silence. Klaus rested his head against the back of his seat and closed his eyes, and Nina thought about strangulation and Susan Misumi.
About how she would like to strangle Susan Misumi.
Sandy had already left for the day. Nina returned some phone calls, and when Bear walked past the office, she called out, “Hey, hi, can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sure.”
Bear came in and his bulk filled the tiny office. Nina got up and shut the door. “What’s up?” he said.
“I wanted to ask you a question. About Klaus.” She saw the big man tense, and thought, He knows. “About how Klaus is doing.”
“Seems to be fine,” Bear said warily.
“You haven’t noticed that he’s-sketchy sometimes? Forgetting things? Not quite on the ball?”
“He’s old, Nina. What do you expect?”
Nina decided to take the Bear by the horns. “Did you know he wasn’t prepared for this trial? His investigator had barely done any work on the case. Klaus didn’t file some crucial pretrial motions. He hasn’t reanalyzed the blood evidence.”
Bear was examining the old law books on the shelves. “Were you able to catch up?” he asked.
“You knew he wasn’t ready. That’s why you pushed to hire me.”
“I have the highest confidence in you.”
“The defense in this case is very weak, Bear. I’m not sleeping.”
“I’m sorry about that, Nina. I really am. What can I do to help you?”
Nina folded her arms. “That’s not the response I’m looking for.”
“Okay. Okay.” His sheer reluctance halted his habitually antsy style. “I’m going to tell you the truth. When you accepted, I was so happy I would have given you double the pay you asked for.”
“That’s good to hear, because I’m asking you right now to double my pay, because I’m doing double the work.”
“All right,” Bear said, humbled. “I’ll talk to everyone and get you what you want, although don’t expect Alan to be happy. He didn’t want the case; he didn’t want you; he didn’t want the expense. I really feel bad, but I knew you cared about Klaus and could work with him, or around him. Thank you for staying.”
Nina sighed. “He did all right today. We’re catching up. I have Paul helping,
Ginger, Sandy. If I only had another six months…”
“This is his last trial, Nina,” Bear said. “We’re going to have to talk to him after this. But you see, he doesn’t realize what’s happening. He thinks he’s still right on top of everything. Or-I don’t know, maybe he does realize, but he’s hoping nobody else has noticed. It’s humiliating for him. He took on Lyndon Johnson in the United States Supreme Court during the Vietnam War, Nina.”
“I know. I’ll try to keep him going.”
“Sean wants us to bring you in permanently. Would you be interested?”
Nina put up her hands wearily and said, “That’s for another day.”
“You’re supposed to say, ‘I’m thrilled.’” He smiled and went out. Nina packed her case and put on her jacket.
In the garage, Alan Turk was just getting into his Ferrari. Nina called to him, “Glad I caught you.” Surprised, he turned off the ignition and said, “Yup?”
“You were the first lawyer to see Stefan Wyatt on the night of his arrest, weren’t you, Alan?”
“I was. Then I brought Klaus in.”
“Did Wyatt say anything to you when you talked to him at the jail?”
The lawyer’s lean face looked up uncertainly at her through the stylish glasses. “Say anything? Hell, no! I told him not to talk to me. I wouldn’t let him. I wasn’t going to be his lawyer and I did not want to know. So-that’s it? Because I have a friend waiting.”
“I just wondered why they called you.”
“His brother, Gabe Wyatt, was my client.”
“Oh, yes, that was it. What did you do for his brother? A will?”
“Why, Nina, you know that’s confidential.”
“We’re in the same firm. Is there some conflict I should know about?”
“If there were a conflict, I might not even be able to tell you. The existence of a conflict might be confidential and not in the best interests of my client.”
“Just a minute,” Nina said. “I know you’re in a hurry, but I have to get this straight. You won’t even tell me what type of matter Gabe Wyatt was pursuing with you?”
“Sorry, no.”
Something about his attitude bothered her. He wasn’t just unhelpful, he seemed downright obstructive. “Do you have information from Gabe Wyatt or anyone else that might tend to exculpate Stefan Wyatt?” she asked directly.
“I can’t answer that question,” Alan said. Nina thought she saw fright in the flecked eyes behind the glasses. He powered up the car, revved it a few times, and backed out. Nina watched him go, her mind racing alongside.
10
Friday 9/19
AFTER LEAVING THE OFFICE, NINA MET PAUL AND BOB FOR HOT DOGS and a sci-fi we-all-die movie downtown. Bob, in good spirits, kept his post-movie critique down to scathing.
“I’m going to Tahoe this weekend,” he announced to Paul, full of plans about who he needed to see and what he would bring back.
“Really?” Paul said. “Well, blow me down. What a surprise.”
“It was a sudden decision,” Nina said. She hadn’t told him. Why hadn’t she told him? Because she knew what he would say. She spoiled Bob. She gave him anything he wanted. Whatever Paul said, she would feel her jaw clench at the interference. “It’ll be a quick trip. He’ll stay Saturday night with Matt and Andrea.”
“You’re not going?” Paul said.
“No.”
“Good. Hey, Bob, say hi to Uncle Matt and Aunt Andrea for me,” Paul said.
“How much will you pay me?” Bob asked.
Paul cuffed him, but with a smile.
They headed out into the cold night. Paul’s car was parked a few blocks down toward the bay. They walked, Bob beside Nina, Paul offering his arm to her, simply out for a pleasant evening. She thought, Does he compare my body with hers? How could he put those sensual hands of his on another woman’s body? How could he? I’m full of self-pity and disaster already, she said to herself, and it’s only been one week of trial stress. She laid her head against his shoulder.
Surprisingly, Bob wanted to talk about school. They were studying local history this week, and had gone on a field trip to a ranch in Carmel Valley. “We practiced roping skills. We got to try it in a ring.”
“Not on a bull?” Nina asked, grateful for something to think about besides her personal issues.
“A cow,” Bob said. “The guy who owns the bull calls him ‘Devil Boy.’”
“Best stick with Bessie, then,” Paul said. They had reached Fisherman’s Wharf, and stood indecisively, the sea lions calling to them, Paul’s warm car another block farther.
“Let’s walk to the end of the pier,” Bob urged.
“Homework?” Nina asked.
“I got it covered.” He rushed ahead.
Nina and Paul strolled slowly behind him. “How would you say it went today in court?” Paul asked Nina. He had been out much of the day.
She told him. “Of course, we haven’t gotten to our own case. So far, they’re seeing only the prosecution’s story. We have to be patient.”
“I have complete faith in you.”
“We’ve got a client whose blood was found at the scene of a murder. Alex Zhukovsky is hanging tough with his story. We don’t know why anybody would want to kill Christina or want the old man’s bones. We don’t even have a decent theory. We don’t have anything,” Nina said shortly. She wanted to stop into a souvenir shop to buy herself a chambered nautilus displayed in the window. They tested the door. The store was closed.
“We will,” Paul promised. They caught up with Bob, who shooed them away, having run into some kids he knew from school. From a discreet distance, listening to the sea lions making their evening ruckus for a minute, they searched the calm waters to see if they could spot an otter. Paul said to Nina, “Hey, you didn’t mention Susan would be testifying today.”
She couldn’t decide if he was studiously casual, or just casual. “True.”
“Do you think she makes a good witness?”
“Oh, yeah. Just great. Her and her big fat lips.”
He laughed. “She’s not that bad looking,” he said.
“Not surprising you’d feel that way.”
He caught her face between his hands and held on gently. “What is it?”
She shook him off. “I don’t expect to like prosecution witnesses.”
“But her testifying against Wyatt isn’t what you hold against her,” he said, “is it? You’re jealous.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No need, you know. The minute I decided to get back with you, we broke it off.”
“Did she drop you or did you drop her?”
He wrinkled his nose and sighed. “What’s the difference?”
“It matters,” she said stubbornly, arms crossed, unable to say why it should matter.
“I broke it off.”
“Liar.”
“Nina, this isn’t like you.”
“Yeah, it’s me. It’s me, in trial. I’m sorry.”
He pulled her to him, trying to make up, she could tell, but she couldn’t. She moved away. She felt his eyes on her as she leaned out over the railing toward the water.
A small cruise boat docked farther down, and they watched the rowdy partygoers unload.
“C’mon, let’s clear the air,” Paul said. “Nina, I’m over forty. I’ve had past relationships. You knew that. I’ve had two wives, for Chrissake. And I slept with them. I’ll bet you slept with your husbands, too, and there’s no question about Kurt, either, now that I mention it, given the fact of Bob’s existence!”
He had slept with Susan. She had known it, but the blood pounding in her head told her she had held a vain hope that he hadn’t.
“You don’t want to dredge up this old stuff,” he went on, so reasonable.
The old stuff, as he put it, was already dredged and heaped up high, obscuring her rationality.
“’Cause, just for example, you’d hate me reminding you about that kid you
used to go skinny-dipping with, right? I mean, I didn’t know you then or anything, so I have no reason whatsoever to picture you and him swimming on a warm evening out there with the bullfrogs and stars. You buck naked. With him.”
Surprised that he was nursing a long-ago, minor mention of herself as a teenager hanging around the rocky pools in Carmel Valley with that wild-kid boyfriend of hers, she couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Your clothes tossed behind on the hillside, a little pot in the air. Your hair wet, drifting all over the place. A bright moon. Him some prime example of young manhood. Shit, Nina.” He frowned.
She couldn’t help herself. She started to laugh. “Yeah, it was just like that, only you left out the poison oak I got, and the tick he got, and the shouting argument part.”
“Just tell me his name,” Paul said, responding to her, now on a roll and just teasing. “So if I run into him minding his own business one fine day, I know who to pound senseless.”
Pelicans flew overhead and the black water lapped against the pilings and the shopkeepers turned out lights in the stores on each side of the pier. She kissed him. Gathering Bob up, they bought saltwater taffy and chewed on it as they walked back toward Alvarado downtown, past laughter and the smell of coffee and grease coming from the crowded fish joints.
Bob skulked along behind them, kicking anything loose he could find on the pavement. “Being back at the old firm getting to you?” Paul asked Nina.
“It’s like coming home after going to college or somewhere. There’s a big brother, Bear, who protects Daddy’s image, and a new puppy, Sean, who nips. The dynamics are familiar and sometimes hard. I know they mostly support me. That’s the good part.”
“The bad part?”
“Progress doesn’t usually involve coming home to roost. It’s the kind of thing you do after a colossal failure. Now that I’m living here and working here again, I can’t help feeling that I’m like a scared person running home. Like I can’t cut it on my own somewhere else. Talk of a partnership just makes me nervous.”
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